Never Let Me Go
by Dolphingirl32173
Summary: What if Damon didn't compel Elena to forget their first meeting? What if he merely compelled her to tell no one about it? Series rewrite. Damon/Elena
1. Prologue

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: yet another Damon/Elena fanfic. I hope everyone enjoys it!

_**DISCLAIMER**_  
>I only own what I write. Everything else is owned by someone with a much bigger bank account than mine. This is the only disclaimer for the whole story.<p>

_**WARNINGS**_  
>ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! Rated M for my sanity. Not that I have any. Elena's viewpoint.<p>

_**SUMMARY**_  
>What if Damon didn't compel Elena to <em>forget<em> their first meeting? What if he merely compelled her to tell no one about it? Series rewrite. _**Damon/Elena**_

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><p>Prologue<p>

"I know Bonnie. You're right. You and my mom both are. I just can't bring myself to tell him," I say into my cell phone. "At least not tonight. Call you tomorrow."

As I hang up, a voice full of surprise makes me look up. "Katherine?" the beautiful blue-eyed man breathes. He's standing in the middle of the road and staring straight at me.

"Um, no," I say as I look over my shoulder, wondering if he's talking to someone behind me. But I'm the only one here. "I'm Elena,"

"Oh. You … you just look …," he says, tripping over his tongue. He sighs, obviously annoyed with himself. "I'm sorry. You just really remind me of someone," he says, walking closer to me. "I'm Damon."

"Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."

"You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself."

"It's Mystic Falls; nothing bad ever happens here." I look down at my phone then return my eyes to his. "Got into a fight with my boyfriend."

"About what? May I ask?"

"Life. The future. He's got it all mapped out."

"You don't want it?"

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, that's not true. You want what everyone wants."

"What, mysterious stranger who has all the answers?" I ask, smirking at him.

"Well, let's just say that I've been around a long time. I've learned a few things."

"So, Damon, tell me. What is it that I want?"

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure. And even a little danger," he says, walking closer.

"So what do you want?" I ask, obviously catching him by surprise. Before he can gather his wits again, I turn at a familiar car horn honking. I see my parents' car making its way towards us. "It's my parents," I say, turning back only to find him directly in front of me. My eyes lock with his and I feel a powerful, uncompromising grip on my mind. Try as I might, I can't break eye contact.

"I want you to get everything you're looking for," he says, his eyes dilating in contracting rapidly. "But, right now, I want you to tell _no one_ about this meeting. Can't have people knowing I'm in town yet. Goodnight, Elena."

I blink and when I open my eyes, Damon's gone. 'How did he move so fast?' I wonder. I climb into the backseat of my parents car and prepare myself to listen to my parents' "I told you so" speech the entire ride home. But my thoughts keep drifting back to that beautiful blue-eyed man.

And when something causes Dad to drive the car off Wickery Bridge, Damon's face and two words are the last things on my mind before darkness takes over. The words are: "what if?"


	2. He Returns

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: I'm _so_ sorry about the delay! Please read the ending note to find out way! Without further ado, I present you Chapter 1. I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 1<br>He Returns

I stare at my parents' gravestone and sigh. I flip open my diary and place my pen on the paper and begin to write.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today a handsome new guy transferred to my school. He has a number of classes with me. All the other girls were going gaga over him, even _Bonnie_ was a little guy-crazy; but all I could think about was the same thing I've been thinking of since the night of the crash. And I wasn't thinking of the actual __crash.__ I was thinking of that beautiful man I met just before my parents showed up to pick me up from the party._

_I wonder if I was hallucinating that night? I mean, my parents didn't see him or they would have asked who I was talking to. And, for some reason, every time I open my mouth to explain what I'm daydreaming about to my friends, I just say "nothing, really" rather than explaining about Damon. Well, he told me not to say a word about him to anyone. I wonder what was going on with his eyes while he told me that?_

_What's Damon's last name? Will I ever see him again? He said something about not wanting anyone to know he's in town __yet_._ Surely that means he planned on sticking around. You know what's __really__ weird, Diary? Ever since that night, I've been followed by a raven that refuses to be shooed away. It's really creepy. But I've grown used to it. Well as much as one __can__ get used to being followed around by a bird that makes you think of the Edgar Allen Poe poem. I even got up the courage yesterday to stroke the bird's feathers. They were as soft as silk, something I never thought bird feathers could feel like._

Suddenly, a raven's caw causes me to look up. Perched on my parents' gravestone is that same bird I was just writing about. "You must be a mind-reading raven," I tell the bird, getting up and walking forwards to stroke its feathers. "I was just writing about you. Why do you keep following me around?" The bird just makes that chuckling sound ravens and crows can make. It leans into my hand is I scratch its head. It lets me continue petting it for several minutes before taking flight. I sigh and go back to my diary.

Just as I make myself comfortable again, I hear the crunch of shoes on the gravel path. I look up and my heart leaps into my throat. Smirking at me from the path, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, is Damon. I slowly stand back up, my diary clutched against my chest. My heart is beating a mile a minute and I'm sure it will pound right out of my chest any second.

His smirk broadens into a grin. "I see you remember me," he says in his velvety voice. "Hello again, Elena."

"Damon," I breathe.

"I'm sorry about your parents," he says softly, his grin disappearing as he nods towards the grave to my right. "I know what it's like. Mine died a long time ago."

"Does it ever get easier?" I ask.

"I still think about them from time-to-time. But the grief isn't as strong as it was," he replies, walking towards me.

"You never told me your last name," I suddenly realize.

"You never told me yours," he reminds me. "But since I've found out your name, I might as well tell you mine. My last name is Salvatore."

My eyes widen. "A new guy transferred to the high school today. His name's Stefan Salvatore," I say softly.

"Ah, my little brother," he says, his grin returning. He leans his hip against the gravestone I had been propped against. "He and I were born and raised here. It's been a while since we've been back." He winks at me. "Meeting you, I think I made a good decision when I chose to come back that night."

I blush. "You're such a flirt, aren't you?" I accuse with a smile.

"Only when it's a beautiful woman. And _you,_ Elena, are a _very_ beautiful woman," he replies, his beautiful blue eyes twinkling mischievously when my blush strengthens to the point I'm _positive_ that I'm glowing.

"You said I remind you of someone the night we met," I say softly.

"No, I didn't," he corrects.

I roll my eyes. "You came close enough to saying it that I got the hint. That and the fact that you called me 'Katherine'," I say. "Who's Katherine?"

He locks his eyes on mine. I wait for that uncompromising grip on my mind that I had felt the last time he looked directly in my eyes. But it doesn't come. "Someone I once knew who died a long time ago. The resemblance is uncanny," he says finally.

I feel as if I had just been punched in the gut. "Is that why you sought me out?" I whisper, somehow knowing he would be able to hear me.

"No," he says dismissively. "I watched you over the summer. I had to be sure before I talked to you again. Now I am. You and Katherine only _look_ alike. You have a completely different personality than she did."

I feel a chill run down my spine. "You were spying on me?" I demand.

"Not necessarily _spying_ on you," he says. "More like observing you when you were out and about."

"I didn't see you at all this summer," I tell him.

He smirks. "I made sure of that," he admits. "I have ways of watching people where they won't know that I'm anywhere around."

"How?" I ask.

He chuckles. "That, my dear, is a secret that I'm not sharing _just_ yet," he tells me. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a jewelry box, his eyes locking with mine again. This time I _do_ feel that uncompromising grip on my mind as his eyes start dilating and contracting rapidly. "I want you to put these on and wear them at all times. _Never_ take them off once you put them on," he says softly, passing the jewelry box to me.

I try to open my mouth to question his words, but instead I take the jewelry box and open it. My eyes widen in shock at the jewelry inside the box. Hanging from a platinum chain is a three-dimensional heart-shaped locket made of white gold with sterling silver inlay and matching earrings. A strange scent floats up from the jewelry. "What's that smell?" I ask as I take the necklace from the box.

"It's just an herb. It brings good luck," he says, taking the necklace from my hand. I turn around and lift my hair out of the way. He carefully fastens the necklace around my neck. I instantly feel as if my mind is clearer than it's ever been. He takes hold of my diary and the jewelry box so that my hands are free to put the earrings on. I'm suddenly grateful that I didn't wear earrings today. "You look even more stunning in the jewelry," he says softly. "You know, they once belonged to my mother." He puts his finger over my lips when I open my mouth to protest. "She would want you to have it."

"If you insist," I start.

"I do," he interrupts.

"Then I guess I can't fight it. Thank you for the jewelry, Damon," I say gratefully, fingering the locket.

"I noticed that your car wasn't in the parking lot," he says conversationally, returning my diary and putting the now-empty jewelry case back in his pocket.. "Need a ride anywhere?" he asks, pulling his keys from a different pocket.

"Jenna's gonna worry if I'm not home before she is," I sigh. "Since you've been 'observing' me this summer, you obviously know where I live. Wait, did you…?"

"I promise you that I did _not_ watch you while you were in your house. That _would_ be spying," he chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and guiding me toward the parking lot.

"I thought about you a lot this summer," I admit sheepishly.

He winks at me. "I know," he says, ice blue eyes twinkling. "I'm irresistible."

"You're unbelievable," I correct with a chuckle.

"Unbelievably hot," he jokes.

"Yes, well, that too," I laugh. He smirks. "I don't know why I'm fueling your obviously _huge_ ego," I growl playfully. I feel a smile tug at my lips. "But this is the first time since my parents died that I feel like myself."

"It wasn't your fault they died, Elena. You were also in that car when it went into the water," he says softly, gently taking my chin in his hand and making me meet his eyes. I'm startled to realize that his skin is actually quite cool against mine. "What if it was one of them who survived and buried _you_ and their spouse? You know, they're right when they say that children are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around."

I sigh. "In a way, it _is_ my fault. Aunt Jenna had come to town to visit. Jeremy and I _promised_ to be there for family night that night. Only, I broke a promise for the first time in my life and went to the party instead. If I had gone to game night like I had promised, they wouldn't be dead," I admit for the first time to another person, though the thought has plagued my mind everyday since that night.

"Okay, stop right there, missy," he says, raising an eyebrow condescendingly at me. "First off, did you _know_ that something would cause your dad to drive off that bridge?"

"Well, no, but…" I start.

He doesn't let me finish. "Did you _know_ that they would die that night if you didn't attend game night?" he asks.

"No, but …" I try again.

"What makes you so absolutely _certain_ that they wouldn't have died anyways that night?"

"I'm not, but …" I keep trying.

"What makes you so absolutely _certain_ that they weren't already marked down on Death's list for the souls that were collected that day?"

"Nothing, but…" I say weakly, slowly giving in because he's making too damned much sense.

"Supposing they were already supposed to die that way, let's say you _had_ stayed home for game night. Something happens that causes the house to catch on fire while everyone was asleep and the smoke detectors _didn't_ go off for some reason. Your parents were supposed to die that night. But because they hadn't died picking you up from a party, you, your brother, and your aunt were bonuses on Death's soul collection." He raises an eyebrow at me.. "Trust me, Elena, I know a _lot_ about death. When it's your time, it's your time. Ain't a lot you can do about it. Your family can do one of two things about it. They could grieve for a while before slowly learning to move on without you. _Or_ they could let grief consume them for the rest of their life, ruining every happy thing that they could have otherwise had. You'll never forget them, Elena. They're your _parents._ From the way you're so caught up in grief and guilt, they were _loving_ parents to you and your brother. Not everyone is that lucky. Be glad that you had the kind of parents you had for as _long_ as you had them. Be glad that they were good and kind and loving. Not everyone grows up in such a household. I didn't." He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "My mother died giving birth to Stefan the fall after I turned seven. He was the golden boy in my father's eyes. And everyone else's, for that matter. He could do no wrong. _I_ was blamed for every mistake he made as well as my own mistakes. I could have let that fuel utter hatred towards him. But I didn't." He meets my eyes. "You should be glad your little brother _wasn't_ in the car that night. You would have lost him, too. Or _he_ could have lost _you._ From what I understand, only one person in that car would have survived that night. Think about it this way: what if you _had_ died as well that night? Where would your brother be if _that_ happened? You're all he has left, Elena. Don't let survivor's guilt ruin your relationship with him."

My eyes widen in shock as I realize that however messed up Jeremy is _now,_ that would be _nothing_ compared to what he'd be like if I had died as well. Jeremy had never been all that close to Jenna. If I had died that night along with our parents, Jeremy would have killed himself from the loss.

Damon gives me a lop-sided smirk, his eyes showing that this conversation had brought back dark memories for him. "I see you understand the point I'm trying to make," he says softly. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and turns me towards the parking lot again. "Believe me, girly, I _know_ what I'm talking about on _this_ subject," he says as we make our way through the graveyard.

" Girly'?" I quote. "You don't look old enough to call me 'girly', buddy. You don't even look twenty-five!"

He casts a quick smirk at me. "I'm older than I look," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

That's when we reach the parking lot. My feet hit the brakes at the sight of the only car in the lot. He stops beside me. "You own a 1968 Chevy Camaro convertible?" I demand, my jaw dropped.

"You like cars, eh?" he teases, gently using his arm around my shoulders to make me start walking towards the beautiful dusty blue car.

"I love them," I admit. "I especially love classic cars, particularly classic convertibles."

He chuckles. "The day I saw this car, I couldn't _not_ get it," he admits, unlocking the doors from the passenger side. He opens the door so I can slide in. "Buckle up, girly," he tells me before shutting the door.

I roll my eyes but comply as he circles the front of the car to slide into the driver's seat. He buckles up as well, an indiscernible look in his eyes as he does so. "You really are a gentleman," I remark as he starts the car.

"Only when I want to be," he tells me with a wink before pulling out of the parking lot and turning his car towards my home. "Normally, I'm a badass."

"I used to be pretty bad myself," I murmur, looking out the window.

" Used to be'?" he quotes.

"I haven't been able to bring myself back to the girl I was since that night," I admit.

"Baby, I could bring out more fire than you ever realized you _had,"_ he remarks.

I fight the smile tugging at my lips. "Who said you could call me 'baby'?" I ask.

"Well, I was nearby the day you broke up with that guy you had a fight with the night I met you. You aren't dating anyone right now," he remarks. "Add in the fact that you've been _daydreaming_ about me, and I'm pretty sure I stand an excellent shot of making you _mine,."_ The last is said with so much possessiveness that I whirl to face him. He keeps his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other arm laid on the back of the bench-seat, his fingers playing with my hair. His glances at me, blue eyes darkened with desire, before returning his gaze to the road.

I feel an unfamiliar heat curl in my stomach at the intensity of his gaze. "Before I even _think_ about giving you a chance, I have to know more about something," I say softly.

His jaw flexes, as if he already knows exactly what I'm going to ask. "You want to know about Katherine," he says softly, his voice and face completely void of emotion.

"You said I look like her," I remind him. "'Uncanny resemblance' you said. I think I have a right to know about her. You obviously loved her."

He smiles grimly. "Where'd you get that idea?" he asks.

"You practically caress her name with your voice each time you say it," I sigh. "If you want to be with me because I look like her, I can't do that. I won't let my heart be manipulated."

He grimaces. "Whether I loved her or not doesn't really matter. Everyone in my life always chose _Stefan,"_ he growls. "Even her. I thought I had her to myself. I thought she was mine alone. But then something happened that made me wake up and realize that she _loved_ him but _wanted_ the set. Damon and Stefan Salvatore, best of friends along with being brothers. At least until _she_ came into our lives. Believe me, baby, when I say that her death pretty much destroyed me for a _very_ long time. Then one day I woke up and realized that _no one_ was worth the loss of my brother's friendship and trust. He was the only one who ever believed in me. He looked up to me and pretty much worshipped the ground I walked on. I always kept an eye out for him and willingly took the blame for his mistakes. I taught him a lot of things as we were growing up." He sighs, turning onto my street. "Then Katherine waltzed into our lives and put us at each other's throats. Her death only heightened our feud rather than ending it. Now that I finally woke up and realized what that bitch cost me, I fear that the gap is too damn far to bridge."

"So you don't love her anymore?" I ask softly.

"I've actually grown to despise the bitch," he admits, pulling into my driveway and parking behind my 2008 Ford Escape. "The extreme similarity in your looks threw me for a loop when I first saw you. I had to watch you over the summer to make sure that you weren't her. I had to make sure that she hadn't somehow come back from the dead."

"Why do you want to be with me if I look like the girl who ruined your life?" I ask.

"You may look like her but you're her polar opposite," he says, unfastening his belt and opening his door. He raises an eyebrow at me. "You going to invite me in so we can continue this conversation in comfort? Since you're so determined to press the subject and all," he says mildly.

I roll my eyes and get out of the car. He locks up and follows me up the porch stairs. I unlock the door and walk inside. I glance back and frown when to see him still standing outside. "You can come in, you know," I tell him. He smirks wickedly as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. I lead him to the kitchen. "You hungry?" I ask, looking at him. I reel back slightly as the whites of his eyes start turning blood red. "What's wrong with your eyes?" I gasp.

He swiftly raises his hand to his eyes and rubs them. "Must have gotten something in them," he says, voice rough. When his hand lowers again, his eyes are back to normal. "Anyways, I'd love something to eat. What do you have?" he asks.

I frown slightly. That didn't _look_ like something had gotten in his eyes. But something in those ice blue depths warn me to drop it. I do so, albeit reluctantly. "Well, it's about time to start making dinner, anyways. I was thinking about spaghetti and garlic bread," I say.

"I love garlic bread. And I _know_ I could teach you a thing or two about preparing spaghetti," he says wryly.

"Oh, really?" I drawl, smirking.

"My family's Italian, Elena. Didn't you pick that up from the name _'Salvatore'?"_ he tells me. "I know a _lot_ about making all _kinds_ of pasta and sauces from _scratch._ And I don't even use a pasta maker."

My eyes widen in delight. "You're on spaghetti duty, then, Mister Salvatore," I tell him. "I'll take care of the garlic bread. My mom taught me a special recipe for it that's been handed down through the women in her family for generations. But you had better teach me how to make spaghetti from scratch."

"Only if you agree to give me a _chance,"_ he replies seriously, holding out his hand and raising an eyebrow. "Is it a deal?"

I hesitate briefly before placing my hand in his. "I better not regret this," I warn him.

He gives me a devilish grin. "Elena, darling, I'm going to rock your world and you will _never_ want me to stop," he tells me seductively. His eyes are full of dark promises.

Two hours later

I'm laughing at one of Damon's jokes – which he seems to have an endless supply of – when I hear Jenna's keys in the front door. Jeremy had gotten back an hour ago and had headed straight up to his room, ignoring me when I tried to introduce Damon. Damon had laid a gentle hand on my shoulder as pain surged through me as it always does when Jeremy ignores me. And that's all the damned time now. Something about Damon _screams_ 'dangerous'. But, in spite of that, I find myself instinctively relaxing around him. I've never had that happen around anyone except my family.

"What's that delicious smell?" Jenna calls from the entry hall.

"A friend and I made spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner," I call back.

"A friend?" Jenna asks, knowing me well enough to know that if it was any of my friends, I'd just name them. "You met someone new?"

"You could say that," I call with a wry grin at Damon. He winks at me. "He's staying for dinner, if that's okay?"

Finally, Jenna makes her way into the kitchen, where Damon's transferring the spaghetti and sauce into two separate bowls while I'm sitting at the counter watching him. Her immediate blush at seeing Damon tells me that even Jenna Summers isn't immune to his gorgeous looks, for all that she's been used by so many men in her past.

"Hello," Damon says, taking Jenna's hand and placing a light kiss on the back of it. I'm startled to feel a surge of jealousy flow through me at such an innocent act. "I'm Damon Salvatore. You must be Elena's aunt, Jenna."

"Y-yes, I am," she stammers. She fights down her unsettled nerves as Damon releases her hand.

"Dinner's ready," Damon says conversationally. I know he's _well_ aware of the effect he had on Jenna. No _wonder_ he has such a huge ego, what with being able to send even women like Jenna a thousand shades of red just by _looking_ at him. "We were just waiting for you to get home so everyone could sit down and eat."

"I'll get Jeremy," I say, getting off my stool. My eyes meet his and dark promises flash in his eyes again. I feel a quiver of excitement at the heat in his eyes. I quickly forget everything _but_ him.

"I think _I'll_ be the one getting Jeremy," Jenna's amused voice doesn't even break through the moment. "You two go ahead with your moment."

Damon gives me smirk full of seduction, igniting a fire in me that I didn't know I _had._ I realize that he was right that he when he said he would do just that. My heart races a mile a minute as I fight the urge to cross the kitchen and yank his head down so I could crush my lips to his. Something about the glint in his eyes tells me he knows _exactly_ what I'm feeling. But how is that _possible?_ I find myself gripping the locket he gave me tightly.

"Jeez, Lena, just give in and kiss him already," Jeremy's drawl breaks through the intense moment like Jenna's voice had _not._ "It's obvious that you like him."

I feel my face get so hot I'd actually be surprised if I'm _not_ glowing. Damon's lips twitch slightly in amusement. _"Do_ you like me, Elena?" he asks smoothly, voice rich with desire.

I smile. "Well, I don't _hate_ you," is all I'm willing to concede. Before he can further broach the subject, as I can see in his eyes he plans on doing, I speak again. "We should get the food to the table."

Damon smirks, seeing through my attempt to avoid the subject. The glint in his beautiful ice blue eyes tells me that he will press the subject later. I blush as I pick up the bowl with the spaghetti and carry it to the table. Damon is right behind me with the sauce. I then return to the kitchen to bring the platter of garlic bread to the table.

The truth is, I've liked him since that first meeting. And that 'like' has grown exponentially since that night. Then it quadrupled in the few hours since he returned to my life. I feel drawn to him like a moth to a flame, for all that I get a very strong feeling that, like the flame, it's dangerous to get too close to him.

I smile softly when Damon chooses to sit next to me during dinner. Jenna proceeds to put on her 'legal guardian' persona and grill Damon about the details of our relationship. He quickly soothes her ire when she finds out when we first met, saying he hadn't wanted his family in the area to find out he was in town at the time and had asked me to keep our first meeting a secret. Then he shocks me by doing the same thing he did to me when he tells Jenna and Jeremy to never _verbally_ invite someone into this house. He tells them to tell _no one_ about his presence in Mystic Falls.

I frown as I feel a strange, dangerous energy uncurl from within him as he speaks But then it disappears in an instant as Jenna and Jeremy blink, leaving me to wonder if I had imagined it. I watch in awe as Damon uses his wit and sense of humor to charm my family, quickly winning them over. My heart soars when even Jeremy laughs at Damon's jokes. It's been so long since I saw a smile on my brother's face, let alone heard him laugh.

Then dinner is over and Damon helps me clean up, even going so far as to insist on washing the dishes while I find a place in the fridge for the leftovers. "Your mother's garlic bread is delicious," he comments when he's washed the last of the dishes, drying his hands on a dish towel.

"Well, so is your spaghetti and sauce," I reply with a smile.

He turns around, grabs my hand, and pulls me into his arms. "I'm glad you liked it," he says, leaning his head forward until his breath is brushing against my ear. I feel a delightful shiver run up my spine. "I know something you'll like even more," he breathes into my ear. I moan when he presses his hips against mine, allowing me to feel the bulge in his jeans. I have never gone that far before and something tells me he somehow _knows_ as much.

"Jenna and Jeremy are just in the other room," I force myself to protest. "They could come in here any second."

He chuckles, holding me tighter. "What about your bedroom? It'll provide all the privacy you insist upon," he purrs, pulling away enough that I can see the desire darkening his eyes. "I want you to be _mine,_ Elena. _All_ of you will belong _only_ to me."

A warning bell sounds in the back of my mind, but it is instantly drowned out be the overwhelming desire to _give in._ The desire to once again be the girl who let her emotions carry her away and damned the consequences. I don't resist "I'll show you where my room is," I say breathlessly. He smirks and slowly breaks away from the embrace, keeping hold of my hand. I lead him through the living room in the direction of the stairs. "Jenna, I'm showing Damon my room," I say as we pass her on the couch.

I flush when she gives me a knowing wink. "Keep it safe, you two," she teases, causing the blush to get even brighter.

I immediately decide that Jenna is the coolest legal guardian _ever._ Mom and Dad would have _freaked_ if they even _thought_ I was going to have sex with a guy on only the second day of meeting him. Something tells me that after this, I will _never_ want another lover. That excites me all the more. I lead Damon upstairs to my room and he immediately shuts the door behind him while I shut the bathroom door. He smirks at me with heat in his eyes as I turn to him. I can see just from the size of the bulge in his jeans that he's _very_ large and that the first few moments of having him inside me will _hurt._ But something tells me he's _very_ experienced in this and will quickly have the pain overwhelmed by pleasure.

I had always thought that when the point came that I was willing to give my virginity to a man, I would be overcome with nerves and shyness. Even Caroline admitted she had been like that her first time, and she's always been the horniest girl I ever met. But even with Damon undressing me with his eyes, I can't seem to find a trace of nerves _or_ shyness in me.

Then he's walking slowly across the room, eating me up with his eyes. I feel heat curling in my lower belly and realize with surprise that his attention is actually _arousing_ me. His nostrils flare, as if he can _smell_ it, and his eyes darken even further with desire and … is that hunger? Before I have a chance to discern the answer to that question, he's in front of me, pulling me into his arms and capturing my lips with his. My eyes close on their own and I return the kiss feverishly, gripping his jacket tightly.

Without even deepening the kiss, he pulls away and yanks my shirt over me head. I shove his jacket off his shoulder and unbutton his shirt, my fingers fumbling as they work. He chuckles throatily and helps me get the damned piece of fabric off of him. The rest of our clothes follow in quick succession and he tumbles me back onto my bed, landing braced on top of me. Only then does he press his lips back to mine, shoving his tongue past my willing lips. He lowers his hips, pressing that _very_ large erection against my feminine folds, giving me a sense of what's to come.

Still braced on one arm, he reaches his other hand between us so that his fingers can part my nether lips. I gasp into the kiss when he runs the pad of his thumb against my clit gently. I moan when he slips one finger inside my core, alternating pumping and curling it. He growls into the kiss as he adds a second finger, proceeding to scissor them as he pumps, stretching my inner walls to more easily accept him. A third finger follows soon after, continuing to scissor as he pumps me.

When he pulls his hand away, he slowly sucks my juices off of each finger, one at a time. Somehow, that sends me spiraling even higher on the wings of passion. Then he gently eases into me, pushing through that little piece of innocence until he's buried to the hilt. I gasp as that bit of flesh shreds and struggle to stay relaxed as I deal with the pain. He whispers gentle encouragements and compliments into my ear as the pain slowly dies away. When he decides I've sufficiently recovered from the pain, he grinds his hips against mine, and, like that, the last of the pain vanishes and passion and pleasure overwhelm me.

He buries his face in the crook where my left shoulder meets my neck as he pulls our almost all the way before rushing back in. He picks up a rhythm that soon has my hips surging forward to meet his with each thrust. He places an open mouthed kiss at that juncture as I bury my hands, which had been trailing over his body, in his raven-wing black hair. I close my eyes in contentment as he shows me just how masterful a lover he truly is. He nips and suckles on the skin beneath his mouth, leaving me with what I'm _sure_ will be a _very_ noticeable hickey.

Suddenly, in a show of inhuman maneuverability and impossible speed, Damon pulls out of my and flips me onto my stomach before shoving back into me from behind. Then the tip of his dick hits a _particularly_ sensitive spot inside of me and I finally understand what those adult romance novels meant about the male lead 'hitting a sweet spot' when he's with the lead female. I moan, my toes curl, and the inferno of passion and desire raging within me roars even more strongly. Damon chuckles darkly and shifts his position on me _just_ enough so that he's hitting that 'sweet spot' every time he shoves his massive dick into me. Just when I don't think this passion-pleasure spiral I'm on can't go any higher, Damon pulls off another inhuman maneuver and I suddenly find myself sitting on the edge of my bed while he's standing in front of me, slamming into me harder, faster, deeper with each thrust and I spiral beyond the point I can even _start_ to comprehend the amount of passion and pleasure I'm experiencing. I go beyond the point of being able to even _think_ clearly. And when he _finally_ lets me boil over, he's right there with me, capturing my scream of ecstasy with his mouth.

After that, I just ride the waves of pleasure as they flow through me. I feel his seed fill me up and can't even bring myself to _care_ that we had bypassed using a condom. My feeling from before this amazing man had shown me how _amazing_ sex can be had been right: I _don't_ want any other lover. _No way_ anyone could _possibly_ top Damon's experience and skill in the bedroom. As I finally come down enough from the pleasure-high that I can take in my surroundings and think sensibly again, I realize that Damon is holding me in his arms and I'm sprawled on top of him. When I go to snuggle against him, I realize that he had _not_ pulled out of me! Damon chuckles lowly as if he knows _just_ how surprised I am by that revelation. But that can't be possible! I blink my eyes open to meet his gaze.

He smirks. "That's a good look for you," he comments idly, trailing his fingers through my hair.

"What look?" I ask, confused.

"The 'I-Just-Went-To-Heaven-And-Had-A-Blast' look," he replies cheekily. "Admit it: my exceptional skill took you all the way to Heaven."

"If that was Heaven, I can't _wait_ to find out what Paradise is like," I say with a small smile, blushing.

"You don't think they're the same thing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I shake my head. "I believe they're two separate stages of what awaits the good souls. Heaven is for those who are marginally to moderately good. Paradise is for the _extremely_ good."

He smirks. "Baby, I'll show you something that's even _better_ than Paradise," he promises, his eyes flashing dark promises at me.

"When?" I ask, eager to find out what could _possibly_ be better than _Paradise._

"When the time is right," he assures me. "Then the two of us will become the King and Queen of something even _better_ than Paradise for eternity."

"For eternity? How will you make it last _that_ long?" I ask curiously.

The dark promise in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. "You'll know when the time is right. Not a second before," he assures me. He glances at the clock on my nightstand. "Well, I'm sure _you_ have homework to do. I doubt that your teachers won't accept the fact that you had been given a mind-boggling experience in exchange for your virginity as an excuse for it not getting done."

"What about you?" I ask softly, not liking that his words signal that he's about to leave.

"I have a few things to do," he tells me. "One of which is _finally_ notify my brother and uncle I'm in town. I don't like that Stefan's somehow managed to get _several_ classes with you. I need to let him know in no uncertain terms that you are _mine_ and that _he's_ to keep his hands to himself where you are concerned."

I chuckle. "I barely even noticed him," I assure him. "You were occupying my thoughts all day. The only reason I actually _remembered_ his name because he's the new kid at school. It's been _years_ since some kid came to town long enough to actually get enrolled in the system. That, and _both_ my girlfriends were going gaga over him. With my friend Caroline, she'd go gaga over _any_ new guy in town. She's already slept with almost every guy between sixteen and twenty-six. The only ones she _hasn't_ touched are either _completely_ devoted to someone else or are what she classifies as 'beneath her standards'. _But_ Bonnie, my other girlfriend, _never_ gets guy-crazy. When we were twelve, she made a vow of celibacy until after she made her wedding vows. She sometimes _looks,_ but she _never_ goes hearts-eyed the way she did when she saw your brother." Suddenly, I blush as I remember how I first saw Stefan's face. Damon raises an eyebrow at me. "Well, to be perfectly honest, there is _one_ other reason I paid attention when Mr. Tanner had your brother introduce himself to class."

"Do tell," he says.

"Well, he _kinda_ caught me coming out of the boys' bathroom after I got through yelling at Jeremy for going to doing drugs," I admit sheepishly. "I didn't adequately explain _why_ I was in there before the bell for first class rang. I did my best to avoid him the rest of the day. The guys who have lived here all their lives and grew up with me know me well enough to know that if I have a reason to confront Jer about something, I won't hesitate to go _anywhere_ he happens to be and have that confrontation right then and there. I even went into the middle school's boys' locker room when I was in eighth grade and he was in sixth because I had heard rumors floating around that he and some of his buddies at the time were planning a _massive_ practical joke that could have _seriously_ hurt someone."

"Fascinating," he says, smirking at me. Suddenly, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.

"Fine," he assures me, opening his eyes again. "But as I said, I have a few things I need to do tonight. What time do you normally get up in the morning to start getting ready for school?"

"Six," I reply. "Why?"

He smirks at me. "I'll be your ride to school from now on," he tells me. "I'll also pick you up after school. Starting tomorrow, I'll even help you on your homework. But not tonight. These things I need to do can't be postponed."

The look in his eyes tells me that whatever it is he has to do, other than letting his brother and uncle know that he's in town, he won't be telling me anytime soon what it is. "Okay," I sigh.

He carefully pushes himself up to a sitting position, cradling me against him so that when he's fully upright, I'm left straddling his hips with his cock still buried in my core. He grits his teeth and lifts me off of him before setting me down on the bed next to him. I may have a slim build, but I'm still no light-weight. I admire the sheer _strength_ it takes for him to do that. Then he presses his lips to mine. "I promise you, Elena, I won't keep you in the dark for long," he vows. "I'm a man of my word. When the time is right, I will tell you _everything._ Then, if you still _want_ to be with me once you know everything, I will make it so you and I will have eternity together in a way Paradise would never be able to match up."

"What do you mean 'if I still _want_ to be with you'?" I ask hesitantly.

He looks away. "I have some dark secrets, Elena," he tells me softly. "Once I share them with you, you may not _want_ to even _remember_ I ever _entered_ your life. And I can make that possible. I'm by no means a good guy. I've done some pretty horrible things in my life. Sticking around after I met you and allowing Stefan to stick around, those could be the worst mistakes I've ever made." Then he turns to meet my eyes; his eyes are hard and his voice tight. "But, Elena, for now, I will stick around a little longer, enjoy my time with you. If you turn me away once you know my secrets, I want something good to look back on in the future. Believe me when I say that as of this current moment, my life is going to be a _lot_ longer than yours. I've already lived a _lot_ longer than I should have. But remember, when it's time for you to make the choice between keeping me around and sending me away, you will also be choosing between a helluva lot more than just that. Because if you decide to keep me around, _I will make you like me."_ With that, he climbs out of bed and starts getting dressed again. "I live a cursed existence, Elena," he says when he's buttoning his shirt. "If you choose to keep me around, I'll make _damned_ sure that you will _never_ be able to leave me. That means making your life cursed as well." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before slipping on his boots and grabbing his jacket. "I'm telling you what I can now to give you an out early on. If you don't want to risk getting more involved with the dark world I reside in, tell me so when I come to pick you up tomorrow morning. I will make it so that every little memory of yours that involves Stefan or I in the least little way is gone. I will take your journal with me because I'm quite sure you've written a good deal of your musings about me in it. Then I will drag my brother out of here and I will make sure neither he nor I ever get involved in your life again." He meets my eyes. "But I will leave that jewelry I gave you. The dried herb in each of the three pieces I told you was for good luck? It's a _lot_ more than good luck. It's protection from those like me. That's why you can _never_ take them off. Not even around me. As I said, I'm not a good guy by any means. I gave you that jewelry to protect you from any temptations I might get, from my brother, and from others like us. Now. Think about all this tonight and tell me what you've decided in the morning. But make sure you do your homework. Even a bad guy like me values a good education."

He leaves me then, leaving me stunned speechless and stark naked in the middle of my bed. I hear him say goodbye to Jenna. I feel a strange, constricting tightness in my chest where my heart is and there's a lump in my throat as well as tears in my eyes. Not even my parents' deaths had hurt _this_ much. That had all sounded like he was preparing himself to say goodbye. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it's not budging. Damon says he's a bad guy. If that's true, then I should kick him out of my life completely. But, somehow, I don't think he's entirely right about that assessment. Bad guys wouldn't _care_ that they are at risk of 'corrupting' someone by hanging around them. Nor would bad guys bother 'protecting' that someone from them and those like them.

But what did he mean when he said he lives a 'cursed existence'? He also said that if I chose to keep him around, he would make my life 'cursed' as well by 'making me like him'. What the _hell_ does that mean?

I take a deep breath. Damon was right. I have homework to do. I shove my confusion and pain away and climb out of bed. I dig an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties out of my dresser and slip them on. I go into the bathroom I share with Jer to take care of my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and hair as well as removing the makeup I had put on this morning. When I first started learning about beauty products and applying them, Mom had made sure to drill it in my head that if I'm going to wear makeup, _all_ of it had to be waterproof or it wasn't worth it. My face would be a _mess_ right now because of how sweaty I had gotten with my activities with Damon if I hadn't taken her words to heart.

When I'm done, I examine my reflection studiously. I'm surprised to see that even thought my eyes are still a little watery, the raging fire that had vanished the night of the crash is back! That makes up my mind. The only possible reason that the fire is back is because of Damon. He makes me want to _live_ again, not just _exist._

He's not the bad guy he seems to think he is. Whatever his 'curse' is, there is still some good in him. He's redeemable of whatever bad things he's done. He's trying to give me a chance to walk away from joining him in a 'cursed eternal life'. That alone tells me he's not a bad guy. I meet my eyes in the mirror. "I'm going to redeem Damon Salvatore even if my life has to become 'cursed' to do so," I promise my reflection.

With that, my inner turmoil fades away. I smirk at myself and return to my room to do my homework before going to bed. I don't realize that my vow to myself really _will_ lead to eternal consequences.

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><p>Sarah: again, I'm <em>so<em> sorry to have made you wait this long! I was having trouble with the route the story would take after Damon got her in bed. This is actually _not_ the original way it was going to turn out. But I decided that it is just too damned soon for Elena to find out about Damon being a vampire.


	3. Confront My Brother

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: welcome to Chapter 2. I _know_ I said in the Prologue that this would be entirely from Elena's viewpoint, but I just _had_ to make this chapter from Damon's viewpoint. I _really_ want to write out what happens between the brothers when Damon warns Stefan away from Elena. So, yeah, Damon's view this chapter. But _first,_ review replies!

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_  
>Since I didn't do one of these last chapter, I'm going to reply to the reviews from the Prologue as well as Chapter 1.<p>

_Psycho17:_ thanks _so_ much for sticking around even after such a long delay between the Prologue and Chapter 1. In your review of Chapter 1, you mentioned a _number_ of topics you'd love to see. I promise you now, I was _already_ planning on writing those topics out _before_ I posted the chapter. Stefan is going face fury from _both_ Damon _and_ Elena as he tries to get between them. You're going to get to see what happens in Damon's confrontation of Stefan this chapter and from Damon's viewpoint.

Jana: yep, it sure is going to be an interesting fanfic.

_DElena is DEstiny:_ yes, I _know_ that the 'out' Damon gave her is _remarkably_ similar to what Stefan did, _but_ he is _not_ going the whole route Stefan took. Once she accepts him even after he's shared his secrets, _he won't leave her._ He plans on turning her should she accept him even after she knows he's a vampire and everything that happened between him, Stefan, and Katherine a hundred-and-forty-five years ago. As you saw, he is _not_ going to hide from her _just_ how 'uncannily' she resembles his sire. So be at ease, my dear reviewer. Damon is _not_ going to pull the 'Stefan routine' on her. He's too selfish to do something so 'noble'. He is _just_ making sure that she _knows_ what she is getting into should she stay with him.

**Everyone else:** I can see in _perfect_ detail _precisely_ how many hits, reviews, favorites, and alerts I'm getting on the story stats page. So I _know_ that there are _many_ more people out there who are checking this out than there are reviewing. The number of site members who have added this to their _favorites_ list more than _quadruple_ the number of reviews I have at this time. And considering two of those reviews are by the same person, which means that there are _more than five times_ as many people who like this enough to add it to favorites as there are people reviewing. The ratio of people who have added this to alerts compared to reviewers is even _worse._ And I am _quite_ sure that there are a lot more people than _that_ who are just _reading_ what I have written. C'mon, folks, go down to the box at the bottom of the page, enter a name or log into your account, and leave a word or two on what you think. You won't _believe_ how much that will mean to me! I'm not saying that I don't appreciate 17 people adding this to favorites and 35 people adding this to alerts, because those are _tremendous_ signs of approval and I'm _honored_ that so many people liked my story _that_ much. I'm just saying that I'd _love_ to hear more feedback on my writing style and the plotline I'm developing. I, like all other fanfic writers out there, _thrive_ on the reviews I get. I plan on becoming a published author one day and I use fanfics as both an outlet of my muse _and_ a way to perfect my writing style. And I can't know what you _really_ think and where you think I could improve a bit more unless you _review_ and give me your opinion. On another story, a reviewer left the word "aww" and that was enough to know that they thought part of the chapter they reviewed was adorable. And I know my stories well enough to have a pretty good idea _what_ they thought was adorable. And you won't _believe_ how happy it made me. So, yeah, even leaving 3 would be a _great_ way of telling me that you loved it! Ahem, now, on with the chapter.

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><p>Chapter 2<br>Confront My Brother

**Damon**

I smirk as I listen to Stefan slowly climb the stairs. I've already read the majority of his most recent journal. Currently, I'm leaning against the wall next to the open door that leads to his balcony, my arms crossed over my chest. That pathetic excuse of a 'diet' of his has so vastly weakened every aspect of his vampire body that he doesn't even _sense_ me. Of course, I've made sure to keep my hunting _away_ from Mystic Falls because I _so_ don't need to alert this town's secret council that there's at least _one_ vampire in their midst. So my brother doesn't even _realize_ he is _wrong_ in thinking that he's the only vampire around.

At least not until _now._ Now it's time to make him realize Elena belongs to _me._ I _refuse_ to tolerate his infatuation with her as I had made the mistake of doing when the girl we both wanted was Katherine. He's the very reason Katherine was killed. I smirk as he starts to open the door. "I'll have you know, I'm even _more_ angry at you than usual," I remark softly.

"Damon," Stefan gasps, staring at me in shock.

"Stefan," I greet icily. "You are trying to convince yourself that it's a-okay for you to chase after something that belongs to me, _again._ I thought you learned _that_ lesson a hundred-and-forty-five years ago when you got this one's ancestress _burned alive."_

His eyes darken in fury and he vamps forward to _try_ to hold me against the wall with his hand to my throat. "Stay away from, Elena," he snarls, vamping out.

I sigh and reach a hand up to pry his hand off my throat before twisting that arm up behind him in a _very_ painful position. I lean forward until my lips are next to his ear. "A little late for _that,_ brother," I hiss. "Take a sniff of the air. I'm sure you'll realize _precisely_ what I was up to with her a mere thirty minutes ago." He takes one breath through his nose and snarls ferociously as he struggles to get free so he can go on the attack. "My, someone's a more jealous than he has any right to be. After all, _you_ haven't even had a conversation with her. By the way, I took care of the off-chance of you trying to get an invite into her house through her brother and aunt. They are _never_ going to _verbally_ invite someone into their home _ever_ again. And Elena is _mine,_ Stefan. I made the mistake of tolerating your infatuation with Katherine. I will not make that same mistake with Elena." I throw him into the wall opposite from us. "And don't even go _trying_ to say that _I'm_ not worthy of her. At least _I_ can keep in control when I'm surrounded by blood. Can't exactly say the same thing about you, now can I?"

"Elena's _not_ Katherine," Stefan snarls, getting to his feet gingerly.

I sigh. "Who are you trying to convince of _that?_ Me? Or _yourself?"_ I ask. "Because the _precise_ reason I'm intent on making Elena _mine_ is _because_ of her extreme differences from our sire. The instant _you_ woke up in transition as well, I realized that Katherine had fully intended on stringing us both along for eternity. I _don't_ like sharing. The _only_ reason I put up with her nights in _your_ bed was because she assured me _I'm_ the one she really wanted. Apparently, she _lied._ A lot like _you_ lied when you swore to keep your mouth _shut_ on the topic of vampires around Father. _You_ are the reason Katherine was burned alive that night. _You_ are the reason Father shot us both through the heart for trying to rescue her from that fate. And _you_ can't be trusted to keep your fangs to yourself when exposed to a _lot_ of freshly spilt human blood. Do you _honestly_ think that Lexi just _happened_ to have found out on her own your screw-ups? Do you _honestly_ think that all those murder sprees were 'solved' or brushed under the rug by _humans?"_

"What are you saying?" he demands.

I smirk. "I've kept tabs on your _exact_ whereabouts from the day Mother died giving birth to you. I gave her my sworn word that I would keep an eye on my younger sibling for the rest of eternity. _I_ don't go back on my word. Once I make a promise, _I stick to it no matter what._ So, I've kept tabs on you over the decades. The _instant_ I get word of a _massive_ amount of 'extreme animal attacks' in your location, I contacted Lexi to get you _back_ on that revolting diet of yours. I also stepped in and took care of the mess you made while she was occupied with you. Like I've done _every damn time_ you've screwed up since the first breath you took. But as soon as I realized that you would not realize that _you_ are the one who isn't safe for Elena to be around, I knew I would have to break my word to Mother if I couldn't get you to _back off._ I'm _not_ going to let you make another mistake of equal magnitude as the one you made the night you and I were killed by our own father. If you leave town _tonight,_ I will continue to keep you from getting hunted down and killed in the exact same fashion Katherine was. If you continue to try to fool yourself into thinking _I'm_ the unsafe brother and stick around to try to be with Elena, then you had better _damn_ well watch your own back from here on because you'll find that you'll have an _eternal_ target on it. I'm _not_ going to risk having you betray her the same damn way you betrayed Katherine. As you said, _Elena Gilbert_ is not _Katherine Pierce._ But _your_ inability to tell the damn truth and _stick_ to the promises you make will cause her to end up _just_ as dead. Think on that. Now," I add with a smirk. "I have to go rob a blood bank. Taking Elena's virginity has left me _extremely_ hungry. And before you start to assume the worst, _I_ didn't lose control and feed on her. She is _still_ in the dark about what we _really_ are." I turn towards the door leading to Stefan's balcony. "Oh, but you _should_ know that she _does_ know about her 'uncanny resemblance to _our_ dead ex'. The one _you_ got killed," I toss over my shoulder before leaping into the air and shape-shifting into a raven.

I take great delight in the groan that elicits from Stefan's throat at that as I fly to where I had left my car. I know Stefan well enough to know that he's _not_ going to back down from Elena without a _tremendous_ fight. I told Elena that if she did not want anything to do with me after she knows _what_ I am, I will relent and take away her memories of me and Stefan as I drag him out of this town. I was telling her the truth. _But_ I never promised to _stay_ away from her myself. I only promised that I'd keep _Stefan_ away. I will not give up _this_ girl without fighting for her heart until the day she meets her final death, whether that be as a human or a vampire. And the day she _does_ meet her final death, no matter _how_ far off it is, I will take my ring off and greet the sun without it. She's already stolen _that_ much of me in the few short months since I first laid eyes on her. My life revolves around _her_ now. And now that I've staked my claim, I will not stop fighting for her heart until the day she and I mark each other as eternal mates. Then she _will_ be mine for eternity.

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><p>Sarah: I took <em>great<em> delight writing down that last paragraph especially. I know some of you must have been upset because it had seemed like Damon was planning on doing the whole 'Stefan Routine' last chapter. But, as you can clearly see, Damon is too damn selfish to just let her go, even if it was _Elena_ asking him to do so. Now that I'm sure I've reassured all of you that he's _never_ going to pull the 'Stefan Routine' of walking away with every intention of _staying_ away, I'd love to here your thoughts on this chapter. There's a little form right down there at the bottom of this page where you can fill in something for me to call you or log into your account and leave me a review. As I said in the Review Replies section, even leaving 3 would be _more_ than enough to make my day!


	4. Interrogation and Exploration

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: back to Elena's viewpoint this chapter. I hope you enjoy. Reviews would be _most_ appreciated.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_AntiheroesPreferred:_ thanks for the tip. I'll try to insert more one-liners on Damon's part. I'll try to tone down on the italics, though I actually use them to show that the character puts emphasis on the word rather than to insert emotion. Last chapter's monologues on Damon's part was him trying to _civilly_ get Stefan to _back off_ from Elena. Things are going to get a _lot_ more interesting from here on.

_Bringalldluvsson:_ last chapter wasn't them fighting, my dear reviewer. Once Stefan realizes that Elena is _not_ going to _ever_ choose him and _accepts_ it, the Salvatore brother bonding will begin. Until then, things are going to be tense were Stefan's involved.

_Psycho17:_ I felt that I _had_ to tap into humanized-Damon to get him to be a _little_ civil with Stefan in the first attempt to warn him to back off. But things are going to deteriorate from now until Stefan finally accepts that Elena is _never_ going to choose him. As for the tomb thing … well, I'll explain that next chapter. I'm too tired to explain now. I already had the chapter typed up before replying to reviews. It's now quarter to two in the morning, so after I post this, I'm going to bed. I hope that _this_ chapter will better explain what had gone on in 1864. But in case it doesn't, I'll spell it out next chapter.

_rcardinals7:_ hi again! you just love my stories, don't you? Thanks for the review!

_msboskiera:_ wow! you're enthusiastic, aren't you**? ****(laughs)** I work on the stories I have muse on. It's _really_ hard to write where there is no muse.

_Sere's Light:_ so happy that you loved what I wrote! And eternal mates is a vampire thing I made up. It's _similar_ to soul mates, yes. You'll learn more about it in later chapters.

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><p>Chapter 3<br>Interrogation and Exploration

**Elena**

I smile as I turn off my alarm clock. I feel so _happy._ And it's all because I know I'm going to see Damon today. I climb out of bed gingerly. Losing my virginity had _hurt._ I think the only reason the ache is _still_ a little intense is because of just how _large_ Damon is. But, my _God!_ His experience and skill really _was_ mind-boggling. I smile dreamily as I take care to pick out something _extra_ nice to wear today. I decide that Damon's the kind of man who would _really_ appreciate it if I showed off my legs. I pick out my favorite black leather mini-skirt and a black form-fitting tank top to go with it. There's going to be a back-to-school party in the woods tonight, like there is _every_ year. I'm going to ask Damon to be my date. I smile as I grab a pair of black leather low heals with black leather straps winding all the way up to my knees from the back of my closet. Then I take my prizes to my dresser to grab a matching set of black lace-and-silk undergarments that I'm _certain_ Damon would _really_ appreciate seeing me in before taking them off of me himself.

Once I've got everything I'll need, I head into the bathroom I share with my brother and lock both doors. I turn on the shower water to heat up while I carefully brush out what few tangles my hair had acquired while I was sleeping. By the time I'm done, the bathroom's nice and steamy so I hop in my shower and take care to get _extra_ clean. Once I get out, I dry off and get dressed. I examine my reflection intensely and decide I need to put my hair up so that the earrings Damon gave me can be shown off properly. I pull my hair up in a French-braid and tie off the end with a ponytail holder. Then I tie a black ribbon around the ponytail holder. After that, I study my reflection again, trying to figure out what makeup I should wear. I decide a light coat of pale blue eye shadow and some strawberry lip gloss will be enough.

As I'm studying my reflection a third time to make sure that there's nothing else I can do to perfect my appearance, Jeremy bangs on the door separating the bathroom from his room. _"C'mon,_ Elena, you've been in there forever! You're not the _only_ one who needs to get ready for school!" he complains.

I decide that anything else would be overkill. So I unlock both doors and let Jeremy in. "Okay, okay," I tell him, glancing at my watch: quarter to seven. "How do I look?" I ask him.

He examines me, knowing that I'm dead serious about getting an _honest_ opinion. "You look like you're about to go to some club with that guy from last night and skip school entirely," he tells me. "You could _so_ get in trouble for that outfit."

I smirk. "Good enough," I decide, heading back to my room to grab my backpack and purse. Then I head downstairs to grab one of the two Toaster Strudels Jenna had put into the toaster and a packet of icing. Heating things up in the microwave or toaster is about the only thing Jenna can be trusted to do in the kitchen without risk of burning the entire house down. I open the icing packet and do my _damnedest_ to recreate my birthmark – a pair of joined hearts with an arrow piercing through them – on the pastry. Once I've done the outline to the best of my ability, I suck the leftover icing out of the packet before admiring my handiwork. I decide that it's the best I could do given the materials I was working with. Then I eat my Toaster Strudel. The clock in the hall chimes seven o'clock right as I'm done eating it. At the same time, the doorbell rings. Jenna had already gone to work and Jeremy's just coming down the stairs. I race to beat him to answer the door.

"In a hurry or something?" Jeremy asks, raising an eyebrow at me before heading towards the kitchen to get his Toaster Strudel.

I ignore him as I swing open the door to smile warmly at Damon. "Hey," I say, suddenly self-conscious in my outfit.

He trails his eyes down my body from my head to my toes and back again, his smile growing more appreciative by the second. "Hey yourself," he replies when his twinkling blue eyes are looking in mine again. "You look _damned_ sexy in that get-up."

I feel my cheeks heat up. "I'm glad you like it," I reply. "I picked it out with you in mind."

He chuckle darkly. "I don't just _like_ it. I _love_ it," he tells me, his eyes glittering with pure mischief. "But I'm not so sure I want you to wear _that_ outfit when I won't be able to keep an eye on you. No telling _what_ the guys might try if I'm not there to defend my claim on you when you're dressed like that."

I smile. "I know how to defend myself," I tell him. "Besides, I'll most likely be sent home early for wearing something like this. I was thinking that I could call you to come pick me up when they tell me I have to leave early. Then you and I could go find something else to do. We will _so_ be the town scandal after such a stunt."

He licks his lips as he thinks it over. Then he smirks. "I think _that_ would make it perfectly clear to all involved that you are _mine,"_ he says finally, taking my hand. "C'mon, let's go become the town scandal."

"Jeremy! Damon's taking me to school!" I call to my brother even as I let Damon drag me out of the house. I don't wait for a response as I shut the door behind me and let Damon lead me to his car. I grin excitedly when I see that he had put the top down. He doesn't even bother with the passenger door. Instead, he uses his impressive strength to lift me up into his arms and then tuck me into the passenger seat. He presses his lips to mine in a hungry kiss. When he pulls away, I _know_ my lips are swollen from it. He winks at me before jogging around the front of the car to leap _over_ the driver's door and into the driver's seat. I laugh at his stunt as I buckle up. Damon buckles up as well before starting his car and pulling out of my drive.

He's obviously realized that I'm not about to let him out of my life by the mere fact that I wore this outfit for him. He doesn't even bring up the subject of whether I want him to stay or not. Instead, we talk about a _lot_ of things, sharing the little details of our personalities. I learn that his most favorite book is _Call of the Wild_ by Jack London but he just _loves_ reading _Gone with the Wind_ over and _over._ I learn his favorite color is blue, but black is a close second. I learn that he's seven years older than Stefan and that his mother died giving birth to his brother. I learn he had promised his mother that he would keep an eye on his brother and take care of him no matter what. I learn that he's afraid he might have to break that promise if Stefan insists on trying to get too close to me. I learn that he's never broken a single promise in his _life._ At that, I tell him that the whole reason I was at the party the night I met him was because I had broken a promise for the first time in my life. He asks me to share some of the little things about me. I tell him my favorite color is actually many: every color water can take is my favorite because the sound of water has always had a calming effect on me. I confess that has changed since the night I lost my parents. I tell him that sometimes I even have trouble with getting a shower and I no longer take tub baths because being in or hit by water brings back the vivid memories of being trapped in my dad's car while it was filling up with water as we were sinking to the bottom of the quarry. I tell him how I still have nightmares of that awful experience. I tell him that even the mere _thought_ of going swimming is terrifying enough to give me panic attacks. He promises me that he will find a way to help me get past that crippling fear. He decides to change the topic by asking me to tell him my most embarrassing experience. I tell him that if I have to tell him _that,_ he has to return the favor.

Unfortunately, that's the moment we pull into the school parking lot. He winks at me. "We'll continue this later when I pick you up," he tells me with a grin as he pulls into a parking space. "Everyone's staring at us."

I look at the students scattered around the big yard between the school and the student parking lot and realize he's right. Every single one of them is staring at us. "What should we do about it?" I ask him curiously.

He smirks. "Why, we'll give them a show, of course," he says, quickly unbuckling me and pulling my body against his before capturing my mouth with his. As soon as his lips touch mine, I _immediately_ forget that we have an audience. He trails his tongue over my lips and I part them immediately. He plunges his tongue into my mouth while one of his arms wraps around my waist and the other hand holds the back of my head. Only when I'm _thoroughly_ out-of-breath does he pull away. He grins at me and I grin back. That's when we both remember that the whole student body was watching the display. I turn crimson as the cheers, wolf-whistles, and cat-calls ring out. Damon merely chuckles. "Now they know _exactly_ who you belong to," he tells me, a wicked sparkle in his blue eyes. "I think the bell's about to ring to start the school day. You should get going."

I smile at him and carefully peel out of his embrace. I open the passenger door and climb out. "I'll see you later, Damon," I tell him with a smile as I shut the door.

"You can bet on that," he assures me. "Now you should get going. The bell could ring any minute."

As if to prove him right, the bell saying 'get to class' rings. I blow him a kiss before turning and heading into the school, glancing over my shoulder once to see he's still watching me. My first class is English/Lit and Caroline shares it with me. As soon as the teacher's back is turned, a folded piece of paper lands on my desk. I quickly grab it and hold it under my desk to read it.

_WHO THE HELL WAS THAT HOT GUY YOU WERE MAKING OUT WITH?_

I glance up to make sure that the teacher isn't looking in my direction. Seeing that she's writing something on the board, I quickly grab a pen and make my reply: _His name is Damon Salvatore. He's my boyfriend._

I hesitate just briefly before writing the word 'boyfriend'. While neither of us ever _said_ anything that would make our relationship official, the way he keeps referring to me as belonging _only_ to him is a strong enough indication that he doesn't want _anyone_ getting between what we have. I take another peek at the teacher. She's talking to the class. I pretend to pay attention while waiting impatiently for her to turn around. Then she turns to write something on the board, I pass the note to the guy seated to my left to pass it to Caroline, who's on his left. When Caroline gets the note, she doesn't get the chance to read it because our teacher has turned back to talk to the class again. Caroline manages to read what I wrote on the next time the teacher turns her back. But she doesn't get a chance to reply for the remainder of the class. She _does_ wait for me in the hall right after class.

"Damon _Salvatore?"_ she demands as we walk to our next class together. "As in _Stefan_ Salvatore?"

I roll my eyes. "Damon is Stefan's older brother," I tell her.

"Tell me about him! How did you two meet?" she demands.

"We've known each other for a while now," I tell her. "We only really got together yesterday afternoon. I was in the graveyard visiting my parents and he showed up. He helped me get a grip on my grief and guilt and made me realize that there was no way I was to blame for the way things turned out that night. Things happened pretty fast after that."

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold up!" she exclaims, staring at me as if she doesn't recognize me. _"Please_ tell me you two didn't do it in the _graveyard!"_

"Of course not!" I snap.

She studies me intensely. "But something tells me you _did_ give your virginity to him," she says shrewdly.

"Maybe," I say softly.

"What was it like?" she asks eagerly. "Where did you do it? When?"

"Caroline!" I exclaim in shock. I shake my head in disbelief. Before I can think of something to say, the warning bell rings. "We need to get to class," I groan, picking up the pace..

"Does this mean Stefan's available?" she asks, easily keeping pace with me thanks to her long legs.

"Well, _I'm_ not dating him!" I tell her. "You'll have to ask him yourself."

I manage to avoid any further embarrassment by dashing into my next class and getting into my seat just as the tardy bell rings. I manage to _keep_ avoiding Caroline after that. I know that Bonnie will get the heads up on Damon from Caroline so I avoid her, too. Third period is History with Mr. Tanner. _No one_ likes his class. And _he_ hates all the students. He seems to _particularly_ hate Stefan after the way Stefan had embarrassed him in front of the class. Thankfully, I get to avoid having to face Stefan because as soon as I walk in the door, Mr. Tanner sends me to the principal's office because of my outfit. The principal recites the dress code to me and lists each and every violation I made by coming to school dressed like this. He tells me that he's going to have to ask me to leave the campus today if I don't have something I can change into that actually _complies_ with the school dress code. I tell him I don't. Before he gets a chance to even _consider_ calling Jenna, I tell him I can get my own ride home and there is no need to have Jenna get off work because of this. He let's me make the call to Damon. I don't know _when_ Damon had the chance to add his number to my contacts, but I know that only _he_ would put 'Call 4 a Good Time' in the name spot. I tell Damon that I'm being asked to leave school early because of my outfit. He chuckles darkly and tells me he'll be in the parking lot by the time I get there.

The principal reminds me that I _know_ better than to come to school dressed like this and warns me that there better not be repeat offences. I just smile at him and make my way to my locker to grab my backpack. Then I quickly make my way to the student parking lot to see that Damon was true to his word. He's leaning against the passenger side of his car with his arms crossed and a sexy smirk on his lips. Some student had taken the spot he had dropped me off in this morning, but that's okay because Damon didn't even choose a parking spot. The Camaro is idling in the middle of one of the lanes between the rows of parking spots, ready to get us out o here.

I quickly make my way to him, fling my arms around his neck, and press my lips to his. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close enough that I feel the bulge in his jeans against my hip. When we finally come up for air, he smirks at me. "I'd like to show you something," he tells me. "Do you trust me?"

"Unconditionally," I tell him, a little startled that I actually _do_ trust him that much. "What is it you want to show me?"

"Let's get on the road and I'll tell you," he says, lifting me up in his arms and putting me in the passenger seat of his car. Apparently, Damon is one of those men who just _loves_ showing off. "Buckle up."

I buckle up as he rounds the hood of the Camaro. Like he had when he picked me up at the house this morning, he bypasses the door by leaping over it into the driver's seat. He fastens his seatbelt and puts the car in drive. It's only when we pass the sign saying we are now leaving Mystic Falls that I decide to press the subject. "What do you want to show me?" I ask.

He glances at me. "You know that when Mystic Falls was founded, it was more of a collection of plantations around a tiny central town, right?" he asks softly.

"Yeah. The history of our town is the very first thing we learn in fifth grade history. And every year after that, we are given a refresher course over it until we graduate," I reply.

"I want to show you were the Salvatore family's plantation was at the time," he tells me. "There are many events in the history of Mystic Falls that have been kept a secret as soon as they happened. Those secrets have been handed down to certain members of the Founding Families when they reach the appropriate age."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "How do you know all this?"

He sighs. "I told you last night that I have some dark secrets," he reminds me. "Some of those secrets date back all the way to the founding of Mystic Falls during the Civil War." He turns off the main road and onto a narrow dirt road. "When the time is right, I'll share my secrets with you. I promised you that. I have _never_ broken a promise I've made in my life."

"Why are you taking me to the old Salvatore Plantation?" I ask.

"Haven't you ever wanted to explore one of the old estates?" he asks in return.

"Yeah, but those old manor houses are collapsing as the supports built into the walls rot away. That makes them dangerous. Even people who have been trained for _years_ in exploring degrading ruins have lost their lives when walls collapse without warning," I point out.

He sighs. "Elena, you said you trusted me. So trust me when I say that when I'm with you, there is _nothing_ for you to be afraid of. I will not let anything happen to you, I promise," he tells me. "I want to tell you some history of my family's old plantation that very few people these days know about. But to do that, I have to show you the ruins and where in those ruins some events took place."

I purse my lips thoughtfully as I watch the trees start thinning out. Finally I sigh. "I meant what I said when I told you I trusted you unconditionally," I tell him. "I trust that you would never let any harm come to me if you can do anything to prevent it from happening."

Damon glances at me and smiles gratefully before turning his eyes back to the road. "We're almost there. Once we pull out of these trees, we'll be on what was once the courtyard of the plantation manor. This road we're on now was once the driveway that lead from the road passing the plantation up to the courtyard. It used to be wide enough to allow two carriages to pass each other in opposite directions with room to spare. The courtyard was where a member of the Salvatore family would meet any arriving guests or see off a guest who was leaving."

We finally break free of the trees and I gasp in awe at the ruins of what must have been a magnificent and extravagant home. Damon parks the Camaro about twenty yards from the ruins. "This place is amazing," I breathe.

"If you think _this_ is amazing, you should have seen it in its prime," he tells me wryly. "Come on, hop out. I said we're going exploring, didn't I?"

"You mean we're going _inside?"_ I demand.

"Elena, relax," he tells me, his eyes twinkling merrily. "The part of the manor we're going to explore is still safe. I made sure of that while you were in school. I would _never_ have brought you here if I even _thought_ it _might_ be dangerous for you."

"It could be dangerous to you, too," I retort.

His lips twitch, as if I had said something funny. "Elena, I'm _much_ harder to kill than you are. Trust me on that," he tells me. "Now, let's get out."

I frown, but I know by that look in his eyes that he will not explain what he means about him being much harder to kill than I am. Not now, at least. I sigh and get out. After I shut my door, I turn toward the front of the car and gasp in surprise. "How did you get over here so fast?" I ask Damon, startled to see him standing next to me.

He just chuckles and wraps his left arm around my waist. "C'mon, let's get exploring," he says, tugging me in the direction of the dark entryway into the ruins. The front door must have rotted away a long time ago.

"Damon, it's _really_ dark in there, how are we going to see anything?" I ask, keeping pace with him.

He raises his right hand to show he's carrying one of those heavy-duty flashlights, the kind that firefighters and other rescue workers use in dark places or during a power outage. "I think this will show us what we're looking out. Besides, it's not _completely_ dark in there. As I said earlier, I checked this place out while you were in school to make sure it was safe to bring you here. Sunlight can make its way through cracks and holes in the walls. It only looks dark from out _here_ because there's just not as _much_ light in there. It's called an optical illusion. Your eyes are tricking you into thinking there is _no_ light in there because the light that _is_ in there is very faint, practically non-existent to the bright sunlight we're standing in. Compare it to being out in the sun all afternoon and then heading into your house to get a drink. After you get out of that entryway, your eyes will be temporarily blinded because your pupils are contracted to adjust to the bright sunlight outside whereas the light in your living room and kitchen is _much_ gentler. Once we get in there and your eyes get adjusted, you'll see we won't be needing the flashlight all that much. Conversely so, once your eyes are adjusted to the light in there and we come back outside into the sunlight, you'll get sunspots in your vision because your pupils will be dilated to pick up every bit of light that is in there so you can see."

I think about it and realize that he's probably right. I sigh. "You are determined to get me to go in there with you, aren't you?" I ask.

"Elena, you're coming in with me even if I have to _carry_ you in there. There are some things I want to tell you about this place that you need to know and I can only fully explain them by showing where you the different events took place," he says seriously. "It's up to you: either you walk in with me or I carry you in."

I sigh. "You don't have to be a caveman, Damon, I'll come," I tell him.

"Actually, a _caveman_ would have knocked you out with his club and dragged you in there by your hair," he quips, his arm around my waist forcing me to keep up with him as he makes his way into the manor. He turns on the super-flashlight at the entryway. "First off, this hole we're going through is where the front door once stood. It's rotted away over the years. If you look closely, you _might_ be able to see the spots in the frame where the hinges had been nailed into place. Dunno if you know this or not, but _screws_ weren't invented until the twentieth century, _long_ after this place was abandoned."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "Wasn't the main house still in use up into the early nineteen-hundreds, like the others in town?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p'. "The Salvatore estate was abandoned shortly after the deaths of the three men who called this place home in 1864. The father, Giuseppe, had shot a musket ball through the heart of each of his sons, for their attempt to save a woman who had been sentenced to be burned alive or what the town suspected she was. Just days later, he was found dead himself. His death was attributed to a rabid animal attack."

I frown. "If they all three died, then how did the family name live on?" I ask.

"The young men Giuseppe killed weren't his only children," Damon explains. "His first wife died giving birth to her second son. But a few years later, Giuseppe remarried. That marriage resulted in the birth of triplet girls and a son. That wife died giving birth to the boy. The oldest son had recently turned ten when his youngest half-sibling was born. It was the oldest two children, the sons from Giuseppe's first marriage, that had been killed for trying to save the woman they loved from her death sentence. As you can surmise, she died. After Giuseppe murdered his sons, he and the other big name townsfolk had it written down that they had died in Civil War crossfire. The burning of that woman and twenty-six others she had been travelling with had been kept completely _out_ of the main records of the town."

"Were they gypsies?" I ask.

"Who?" he asks, his tone amused.

"The people who were burned alive. Were they gypsies? Or suspected of being gypsies?"

"No," Damon says softly. "What they were suspected of being was even more frightful to the townsfolk than gypsies." He sighs and steps into the manor, dragging me with him. He slowly shines the flashlight around, letting me take in the extravagant … room? "This was known as the entryway," he tells me. "It served as a place to store cloaks, coats, and hats. If the weather was too dreadful for the members of the household to greet their guests or send them off in the courtyard, then those exchanges were made here." He points the flashlight to my left to show that half the wall had collapsed. "Where all that rubble is there was once a wall lined with wooden pegs for hanging coats, cloaks, and hats." He takes a deep breath before pulling towards the doorway opposite the one we came in through. "This doorway once had doors as well. That had become custom in areas of extreme weather or temperature as the seasons changed."

"Why?" I ask.

"Well, on a freezing cold, windy day, you'd prefer being tucked inside with a nice roaring fire. And _no one_ likes it when cold drafts hit them just as they're warming up all because someone had opened the front door. So the entryway came to also be a buffer to keep the warmth of the house _in_ during the winter. It's bad enough that some of that warmth was dragged out constantly by the chimneys. But what could you do? Fill the whole damn house with smoke _just_ to keep _all_ the warmth in? Because in those days, there was no such thing as climate control systems. Fires in the fireplaces were the only way of getting the house warm. Those who designed chimneys to go with the houses being built did their best to minimize the amount of heat that escapes while still having the smoke sucked up the chimney by the wind."

"You sound like you experienced all that yourself," I remark. He doesn't reply, just drawing me deeper into the house. I frown when he doesn't stop in the next room to point out different things. Instead, he turns me towards the stairs that are a part of that room. "Damon, what's this room? And why aren't you showing it to me?"

He sighs. "This is the parlor. What modern people refer to as the living room," he says. "I'm not showing it to you because _many_ deaths occurred in this room. The creature that killed Giuseppe Salvatore took many more lives in this room. And it was _very_ messy in those murders. To this day, there are still bloodstains all over this room. I'd rather you not see them."

I gulp. "What was it that killed those people? And how could it have gotten in?" I ask.

Damon shrugs. "The creature was never caught. Those deaths were attributed to a rabid animal that had somehow gotten in," he says softly He tugs me to the stairs and we start climbing. "Some think that had the townsfolk not burned those twenty-seven people or had Giuseppe not killed his sons, the monster that killed those behind the burning as well as many others would not have been set free."

"What do you believe?" I ask as we continue to climb the stairs.

"I think that the past can't be changed, only learned from. It is up to each of us to learn from our mistakes or risk repeating them at some future point. Learning from the mistakes of others as well as your own mistakes is a sign of wisdom," he replies as we reach the second floor landing. "I think there is a great difference between wisdom and intelligence," he continues, guiding me down the hall to the right. He stops at the very last room at this hall. "This is the room that belonged to the oldest of Giuseppe's children, the first born son," he tells me.

"The door's still here," I say softly.

"It's a good, sturdy door. It's made from the wood of an ancient white oak tree that had lived nearly a thousand years on the property before it was cut down and it's roots pulled up to make room for another field," Damon tells me.

"And how do you know that the tree had been living on the property for nearly a thousand years?" I ask. "This door was made over a century and a half ago."

Damon just chuckles and I realize I won't be getting that answer anytime soon. Damon carefully opens the door and pushes it open. I have to squeeze my eyes shut because apparently the window to this room is one of the things that time destroyed. Finally I slowly blink them open and examine the _extremely_ neat room. A king-sized four-poster bed takes up the middle of the room. I'm startled to see that the ancient sheets and even that old mattress is still there.

"Aren't fabrics usually the first thing to rot away?" I ask Damon. When he doesn't answer I turn to look up at his face. What I see in his eyes confuses me even more than anything else he's done to confuse me: regret. "Damon?" I ask, reaching up to touch his face. "Are you okay?"

He closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens them again, the regret is gone. "Just some old memories surfacing," he tells me.

"Did you use to come here a lot?" I ask.

"I have _many_ memories of this area that tend to surface at the worst possible moments," he tells me cryptically. "Most of my memories are regrets. But I've learned my lessons from them. I won't make those mistakes again."

I frown as I spot something hanging above the fireplace. Curiosity pulls me from Damon's embrace to go examine it. As I draw closer, I realize that it's actually a painting of a woman. She's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Damon comes forward to carefully lift the painting off it's mount and bring it down so that we can examine it closely. "Who is she?" I ask.

"Trista Salvatore," Damon replies softly. "Giuseppe Salvatore's first wife. The mother of the two young men he had killed though he had helped her bring them into the world. Stories say that he was never the same after she died."

"Why is her painting in the oldest son's room?" I ask.

"Story goes that soon after her burial, he had found the painting in a pile of discards that were going to be burned. He had loved her so much and he had very little to remember her by now that she was gone, so he saved the painting. In those days, it was believed to that one should only enter the private quarters of another if given personal invitation. The oldest son had these private quarters long before his mother died. So he snuck the painting in here and mounted it to the best of his ability. At first, he had the painting mounted near to his bed. He didn't dare try to mount it over the fireplace with carpentry skills like were _then._ Once he had trained his carpentry skills to a point he was proud of, _then_ he gave his mother's portrait the utmost respect it deserved by mounting it over his fireplace. It took the oldest son more than a decade to become _that_ skilled, or so the story goes. Giuseppe was never invited into the oldest son's room, not that he would ever have accepted such an invitation."

I frown as I realize something _extremely_ strange. "Damon, she looks like _you,'_ I tell him. "She even has the same eyes as you."

Damon refuses to meet my eyes. "I've been told that I inherited my looks from my mother's side of the family," he replies evasively. "The only thing I inherited from my father was my temper. He and I … we did _not_ get along at all. I respected him for some things. But I neither loved nor even liked him. I did not grieve for him when he died. In fact, I rejoiced. For the time I had my mother, she and I had been _extremely_ close. She taught me many things and passed many of her passions on to me. Complications arose after she gave birth to Stefan and she died from them. For many years, it was a struggle to hold true to my promise to her to keep an eye out for him. I resented that he took her from me. I resented that he had my father's respect and love. But Stefan and I inevitably grew to be the closest of friends. At least up until Katherine walked into our lives and turned us against each other. I will never forgive her for stealing Stefan's friendship and trust from my grasp. But, even now, even all this time after she died, he still refuses to attempt to recover our bond. And now, you appear." He rakes a hand through his hair. "You should know that the only physical difference between you and Katherine is your birthmark. She never had one. But your looks are the only thing that you have in common with her. I made sure of _that_ before I came into the graveyard yesterday afternoon. If you had been the _remotest_ bit like her in personality, I would have either left this town until you died or killed you myself."

"You speak about murdering me as if it wasn't a big deal," I say warily.

"Had your personality been _anything_ like Katherine's, the only 'big deal' I would have gotten from killing you would have been feeling like I had finally gotten back at _her_ for everything she put my brother and I through," he says seriously, meeting my eyes.

I gasp and step back at what I see in his eyes now. Where his eyes had been warm, kind, _loving_ when he looked at me just a few minutes ago, know I feel like I'm locking eyes with a stone cold killer who I know _instinctively_ will never get caught for whatever murders he commits. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stumble back another step.

"You should know this, Elena," he says softly. "I _do_ have a temper. And at times I am _not_ a nice guy. There are things about me you wouldn't even _dream_ of it possibly being real. And when I _prove_ to you that every last secret of mine I tell you _is_ true, you _will_ be terrified. You should know that there is a _lot_ more going on in this world than you would even believe _possible._ But when I took you in your bed last night, I was marking you as _mine._ For you and those like you, a virgin giving that claim up is not _nearly_ as much of an event as it is for me and those like me. When you gave me your virginity last night, a _lot_ more went on between us than you realized. You're marked as mine, Elena, marked _because_ I stole your virginity." Then his eyes and manner soften. "But I will _never_ hurt you. I will protect you with ever last Power I have." From the way he curls his voice around the word 'Power', I envision it as capitalized and intensified to something beyond my realm of understanding. "Just remember, Elena, you're mine now. You belong to me in ways you can't even comprehend right now. What we did in your bed last night was more than sex or even making love. You probably realized that I am _very_ experienced in the bedroom. But what went on between us last night was something I have _never_ done with anyone else."

I shake my head slowly. "What are you doing, Damon?" I demand.

"Explain," he says softly.

"Last night you gave me experience that not even the most detailed and heated adult romance novel I've ever read could have hoped to come _close_ to describing. Then you tell me that you're giving me an 'out'. A chance to stay away from the 'dark world' you live in. This morning, you kiss me like I'm the most precious thing in the world. And now it feels like you're trying to _scare_ me away," I say helplessly. "Your mood swings are so damn _confusing_ and through all of it, I get the distinct feeling that whatever is going on between us has me even farther below the surface than I was when I was trapped in my parents car as it was filling with water and sinking to the bottom of the quarry."

He watches me, keeping his expression blank and his eyes emotionless. "Do you feel like trying to get to the surface?" he asks softly..

"For someone who nearly drowned, I find it _terrifying_ that I honestly _don't care_ if you take me all the way to the Challenger Deep with you without any way of getting oxygen in my lungs! I exclaim, feeling tears in my eyes.

He slowly crosses the distance between us until he's standing right in front of me. He stands there, searching my eyes for an immeasurable amount of time. Finally, he smirks. "Well, then, Elena, you are going to find yourself in for one _helluva_ ride that will _never_ end," he tells me. "Who knows? We may even _visit_ the Challenger Deep before eternity ends."

"Are you going to tell me your secrets now?" I ask weakly.

He shakes his head. "Not yet," he tells me firmly. "Soon, though. There are still a few things that I want to take care of. Then, I will tell you _everything."_ He turns his attention to the portrait of Trista Salvatore. "My mother would have been proud that I have chosen you to be by my side for eternity. I am now grateful that I had met Katherine that day. If not for her, you and I would never have met."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

He meets my eyes. "Soon, I'll tell you everything. Then I will make you like me and we will mark each other as eternal mates. Then there will be eternity before us," he tells me. "Just be careful when you have contact with my brother. He will try to get between us. The jewelry I gave you will protect you from most things he would think to try, but that doesn't mean he won't think of other ways to try to tear you away from me." He holds out his hand to me.

I don't even hesitate in placing my hand in his. "Nothing will come between us, Damon," I tell him. "I will fight with every last bit of my being to keep that from happening."

He smile is so beautiful and so full of gratitude that I feel my knees turn to Jell-O. "Then you and I will have nothing to fear because I will do the same," he vows. "You belong to _me,_ Elena. _Nothing_ will ever change that."

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><p>Sarah: <em>yeah,<em> I couldn't spoil the simple intimacy of _that_ moment by going any farther.


	5. More Exploration & the Fright

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: wow! I feel so loved! Thanks _so_ much for all the reviews, everyone! This chapter will pick up pretty much where last chapter left off. But _first_ I need to reply to my lovely reviewers!

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_korvik93:_ so glad you thought I did well with Damon's viewpoint! And here's the update!

_VDfan2107:_ yeah, I agree that Damon's relationship with Elena is both scandalous and _so_ him. Damon's going to be dropping clues to his secrets for Elena to try to put together for a few more chapters before telling her. And Stefan will _definitely_ try to interfere with the lovebirds' relationship. He's also going to do his damnedest to take Damon out of the picture before he completely corrupts Elena, not realizing that it's already a little too late for that.

_kfulmer7:_ I've loved that scene of Damon and Elena's _true_ first meeting ever since I saw it! And I finally decided I _had_ to see what my imagination would cook up had he _not_ made her forget about it. And yes, he _was_ rather hungry in the _vampire_ sense of the word in Chapter 1. As for your review on Chapter 2, the one told from Damon's viewpoint, I plan on putting in more chapters from Damon's viewpoint, particularly when things are a little dull with Elena at that precise time in the story. And I plan on having Damon read Stefan's journal in some of those chapters, giving us a peek at Stefan's view of things. As for your review of last chapter, yeah, it _was_ intense at times, and _very_ informative. Elena still hasn't pieced together the puzzle pieces Damon's giving her by telling her about the 'history Giuseppe's oldest son' as well as what he tells her about 'his own past'. He's trying to give her the pieces she needs to solve the puzzle herself. She doesn't realize that the 'history lesson' he's giving her now has any relation to Damon's secrets. Not yet anyways. Thank you _so_ much for reviewing each chapter!

_PattyFluer87:_ if you're interested in a more in-depth information on my take on the eternal mates thing for vampires, take a look at my stories _Setting Things Right_ and _The Woman I Love._ They are sister-fics which are Elena's and Damon's views, respectively, of the same basic plotline. The eternal mates thing pops up in the latest chapters I have posted on them, toward the end, what I call Chapter 6 but the site calls Chapter 7 because there is a prologue in each of them.

_stordec23:_ I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Here's the update!

_msboskiera:_ I'm _so_ grateful that you enjoy my writing that much! Here's the update.

_Valerie2100:_ I've seen a couple attempts at this theme, but they all seem to have been abandoned after only a couple of chapters. So I had to see where my own imagination would take this theme. So glad you enjoy it!

**Everyone else:** I _do_ accept anonymous reviews, people. I can look at my story stats and get a pretty good idea of how many people are reading my story. C'mon, tell leave a word or two telling me what you think of what I've written as well as what you think I could do to improve my style of writing. For anonymous reviewers, please leave something I can call you other than "Guest". It's a little hard to differentiate my reviewers if I have multiple anonymous reviews left with just "Guest" in the name box. I'd love to let you know that I'm replying to _you_ rather than just hoping you understand it by my response to "Guest # of Chapter #". I look forward to finding out what you think. You could even leave a heart to tell me you love it. Anyways, on with the story!

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><p>Chapter 4<br>More Exploration and the Fright

I smile at Damon, somehow knowing that when he said that we will be together for eternity, he means it _literally._ And something tells me that his words of my being terrified once he reveals his secrets could very easily end up coming true, but my heart tells me that I will only be scared of the enormity of what he is hiding, _not_ of _him._

Damon pulls me forward into his arms to press a kiss to my lips. When he pulls away, he smiles warmly at me and my heart melts. "We're not through here," he tells me, and I realize he's referring to the exploration of these ruins. He pulls away so that he can pick up the ancient portrait of Trista Salvatore. He stares at her for a long time and I'm startled to see love in his eyes. Not like the love that is there when he looks at me. No, this is the love of a child for their mother.

"Damon?" I ask softly, uncertain if I should pull him out of whatever memories he's reliving while looking at the portrait.

He casts a smirk at me. "I think I'm going to take this with us," he tells me.

"You looked like you _knew_ her," I say hesitantly.

He looks at the portrait again before turning back to me. "I promised I would explain everything when the time is right," he reminds me. "This is one of those things I'll explain. Just know that Trista Salvatore had been an amazing mother to her oldest son in the time he had her."

"How old was he when his brother was born?" I ask.

"His brother was born the fall after his seventh birthday. He had been twenty-four and his brother had been seventeen when they were killed," he replies, studying the fabric that is still on the bed. "That white sheet looks relatively whole. It'll do to protect this portrait. Spread it out for me," he says. I obediently untangle the white sheet carefully from the other fabrics. I'm surprised that the sheet _is_ pretty much in one piece even after all these years. I take care with the old silk as I spread it out. Damon gently lays the portrait in the middle of it and carefully wraps it up in the silk. Then he hands the bundle to me. "You be very careful with this, okay?" he asks.

"You're trusting me with it?" I ask, startled.

"Just be careful with it. Don't hold it to tightly because it could easily crumble," he tells me. I take it hesitantly and hold it against my chest, being careful to make sure my grip is firm but not tight. "Just like that," he assures me. He looks around, almost as if trying to decide if there's anything else we could salvage.

"Couldn't we get in trouble for being here?" I ask softly.

He smirks at me. "Elena, this property still belongs to my family," he tells me. "I'm allowed to come here and look around whenever I want because, in all technicalities, the Salvatore estates, both here _and_ the boarding house, belong to _me._ I just _let_ Zach live in the boarding house because _someone_ has to keep on eye on the place while I travel around."

I frown. "But isn't Zack older than you?" I ask. "I thought the Founding Family estates were passed down to the first born."

He chuckles. "Elena, when I said I'm older than I look, I wasn't referring to just a_ few_ years older," he says cryptically.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Later," he promises.

I sigh, knowing that he's not going to say anything else on the subject right now. "Okay, so now what?" I ask.

He casts one last look around the bedroom of the young man who had died nearly a century-and-a-half ago. "I don't think there's anything else worth salvaging in here," he says, turning me towards the door. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and starts guiding me back into the ruins. "On with the tour."

"You never told me the names of the sons Giuseppe killed," I realize.

"You know more than you think you do," he says cryptically. "If you can't figure it all out on your own, you'll have to wait until I decide it's time to reveal all my cards."

I frown as a thought occurs. "Which of Giuseppe's sons was with the young woman who was burned first? The oldest or the second-born?" I ask.

"The oldest, though some people would tell a different story," Damon replies, guiding me into the hall. He turns the flashlight on so that we can see where we're putting our feet. "The young woman had been staying with the Salvatore family from the time she arrived in town to the day they burned her and twenty-six others alive. The oldest son was waiting for her in her rooms, which was _highly_ improper in those days, when the second born son confessed his feelings to her right outside the door to her rooms. The oldest son and the young woman had been _very_ intimate for a number of weeks by that time." I open my mouth to ask a question but Damon cuts me off. "Elena, I'm not going to tell you where I got this knowledge right now. So save your questions until I'm ready to tell you everything there is to tell." He stops outside a massive set of _highly_ ornate doors. "Those doors lead to the master suite, the private domain of Giuseppe Salvatore," he tells me. "None of his children had ever set foot in there. In fact, as far as I know, no one has set beyond those doors since the day he died. His body had been found in the study."

"Are we going to go in?" I ask softly.

"We _could,"_ he says, almost as if to himself.

Damon grits his teeth before twisting the knob of one of the doors and pushing it open. Unlike the room of the oldest son, which had been bathed in sunlight due to a broken window, _this_ room is even darker than the hall we're standing in. An icy cold draft slips out. Something about the thought of passing through the doorway causes every hair on my body to stand on end. "I don't like the _feel_ of that room," I tell Damon in a whisper. "Let's just skip this one."

"I always knew his heart had been blackened and warped after her death, but I didn't realize it went to _this_ extent," he says in a way that tells me that he doesn't realize he's actually speaking his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"Do you believe in spirits? Souls of those who died that linger in our world rather than passing on?" Damon asks.

I immediately remember the one time I had visited the Spirits' House out in the woods surrounding the town. I shudder. "Yes," I reply.

"Well, some spirits are good and do their best to help those still in our world which is why they stayed rather than moving on. Some spirits were _unable_ to move on. Other spirits … other spirits are pure evil and were somehow bound to a spot where their most powerful memories were made, the memories that had twisted and blackened their hearts and made them irredeemable. The master suite of the old Salvatore estate also held the chamber where Giuseppe's wives gave birth to their children. Both of his wives had died in that room. Apparently, their deaths had twisted and warped Giuseppe's heart and blackened it beyond redemption. Now _his_ spirit is tied to all the rooms contained within the master suite. If we so much as step foot beyond this doorway, he will have us at his mercy. And I assure you, there is _none_ of it for the two of us."

"But he died nearly a century and a half ago!" I exclaim. "Why would he hold ill will towards _us?"_

"Because of the secrets I keep," Damon replies tersely. "So long as we do not cross that threshold, he can do no more than emanate his fury at us. I can't even reach across to pull the door shut without him being able to do what he wills with my arm." I look up at Damon to see that he's glaring into the chamber. "The only thing I regret is that it had taken until now to see just how evil he truly had been."

I sigh in relief as Damon tugs me further down the hall, away from those haunted chambers. "What will happen to his spirit once this place is completely gone?" I ask. "I mean, if he is bound to just those rooms and can't even go to the rest of ruins, what happens when time finally destroys this place completely?"

Damon shrugs. "I know many things, Elena, but even _I_ don't know what happens to spirits when the place they are bound to is destroyed. Have you heard of the old Spirits' house in the woods?"

I shudder. "That's where I first started believing in spirits and ghosts. I had gone there on a bet one night. My friends bet that I wouldn't be able to handle being inside the Spirits' House after dark for five full minutes. They said that they would each treat me to one month's worth of meals at The Grill if I won. I ended up with getting treated to four months of meals at The Grill. But I will _never_ go _near_ that property again so long as I have any say in the matter."

He's silent for several long moments. "Apparently, your experience there wasn't as severe as mine or you wouldn't have lasted those five minutes," he says finally. "More than a hundred men and woman had been burned on that property because the locals thought they were witches and warlocks. The last burning to take place there was shortly after the deaths of the Salvatore men."

"The people around here sure must like lighting people on fire," I mutter.

Damon chuckles. "Well, for what those who were burned alive were thought to be, there aren't many _other_ ways of killing them," he replies. "Wild animals fear fire for a reason, Elena. Mankind has 'tamed' fire in a way. But it can still get out of control and then even humans fear it. Fire burns, consuming all that it touches to prolong its existence. Nothing in this world is safe from fire. We use it as a source of heat, to craft metals, to secure things, to make things run. Many have forgotten for just _one_ moment how _easily_ it can get out of control and have lost their lives because of it. A single _second_ of carelessness on one person's part can result in the death of many. In the days before electricity, there were actually _far_ less occurrences of fire getting out of control because in those days fire was the only way to heat a place or cook things. Because _fire_ was relied on so much for just about _everything_ before electricity came around, parents started teaching their children fire safety techniques pretty much as soon as they were old enough to understand simple directions. Those lessons continued as the child grew up."

We stop in front of a set of doors at the far end of the hall from the oldest son's room. "What is this room?" I ask.

"The second-born son's rooms," Damon replies, opening the door. Inside, the room is a complete mess with books and trinkets covering every conceivable surface. While the room isn't lit by _direct_ sunlight, as the window is still intact and caked in dust, it's still more brightly lit than the hall. "He always _was_ a packrat," Damon mutters, guiding me in.

"How can anyone _live_ like this?" I ask, baffled by the mayhem. "I would _never_ be able to find anything if I kept my room like this!"

Damon shrugs. "I don't understand it either. But some people just can't learn organization skills for _any_ reason," he replies.

I frown as I spot a lone, leather-bound book on the nightstand. I pull out of Damon's embrace and make my way over. As I get closer, I can _just_ see through the dust the initials _S.S._ engraved on the cover. "Hey, Damon, I think I found a journal," I call.

Damon swiftly approaches. He picks up the old book and carefully dusts it off. As the dust clears away, I can see that the initials are engraved into the leather and coated with gold filigree. "Well, what do you know?" Damon muses. He flips it open and carefully flips through the pages. As he reads, his expression darkens. He's only a quarter of the way in when he snaps the book shut. "Well, that was enlightening," he remarks.

"What did it say?" I ask.

He shakes his head and stuffs the journal into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Nothing that you need to know," he replies. "The contents of this journal occurred nearly a century and a half ago. What's done is done."

I study his expression as best I can. What I see there tells me that whatever he read may have nothing to do with me but a _lot_ to do with someone he knows. I get the feeling that Damon and that person are going to have a _lot_ of words next time they cross paths. And _none_ of them are going to be pleasant by _any_ definition of the word. I look around the room and sigh. "Whenever I meet someone with a messy bedroom, I always feel like they are trying to use the clutter to drown out some lack in another area of their life but can never quite accomplish it. The messier the room, the greater they feel they are missing something they want more than anything but know they can't have," I tell Damon.

"If that's the case, my room should be chock full of junk," he says wryly. "I've missed out on a lot of things I've wanted more than anything in the world. But I prefer being able to _find_ what I'm looking for to having to dig through stack after stack of wasted space, _hoping_ I find it while I still need it." He winks at me. "I'm a bit fanatical about keeping things in my room orderly. Stefan, however … well, I don't go in _his_ room any more than I absolutely _must_ because I'm afraid I'll bump something the wrong way and be buried under piles of his junk and I'll never be seen again."

I laugh. "Yeah, when Jeremy's _really_ in run of bad days, I don't go any farther into his territory than the threshold for the same reason," I tell him with a grin.

"Little brothers can be such packrats," he says with a grin.

"Totally agreed," I reply. "C'mon, let's get out of this room. I'm feeling a little claustrophobic with all the piles of stuff lying around."

"Couldn't agree more," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and guiding me out of the room. "You know, I think _some_ of that dust has been around since _before_ the owner of that room died."

I shudder. "Scary thought. My philosophy is that you shouldn't keep more knickknacks and whatnots out than you can handle dusting regularly. I'm _so_ glad I'm not a victim of being allergic to dust," I tell him.

"Yeah, that tends to be one of the more annoying allergies to have," he agrees. "It is in effect no matter _what_ time of the year it is."

"So, where to now?" I ask.

"Well, that ends the tour of what I can show you in these ruins," he says. "The rest of the place is too decrepit to go scrambling around in safely. And I _doubt_ you'd want to see the old slave quarters, which is the only _other_ part of the property that is in relatively good condition. _I_ certainly don't want to go exploring around down there."

"Let's get out of here," I tell him. "This place is getting a little depressing."

"Agreed," he says. "Let's leave."

We make our way back outside in a comfortable silence after that. But on the way, I notice a set of doors at the top of the stairs with on standing open slightly. "Who's room was that?" I ask Damon, motioning to the doors.

Damon looks at the doors. "Those rooms belonged to the girl who was burned alive because the townsfolk feared what they thought she was," he replies. "Many things occurred in those rooms that are best left lost in history." He tugs me towards the stairs but something in those rooms call out to me, _pulling_ me towards them. "Elena," Damon protests as I pull out of his embrace and push open the door to step inside. As soon as I'm through the threshold, _something_ causes the door to slam shut. Damon starts banging on the door. "Elena, this _isn't_ funny! Get out of there!" he says sharply.

But I only hear his voice at a distance as I stare around the simple elegance of the main bedroom. Something about this room seems so _familiar,_ though I have _never_ been to these ruins in my life, much less this set of rooms. I can vaguely make out the sounds of Damon trying to force the doors open and just as vaguely I realize he is using a _lot_ more strength than any human could _possibly_ be able to harness. But something draws me to the dresser, the artifacts on it laden in dust and the mirror coated in cobwebs. I spot an ancient gold necklace with gorgeous gems that I don't recognize embedded in it. I carefully set down the portrait of Trista Salvatore so I can pick up the necklace and dust it off. I'm startled to see that under the dust, the gold hasn't tarnished nor have the gems cracked over the years since it was last worn. Something makes me tuck the ancient necklace into the one of the pockets of my mini-skirt. For some reason, I feel the intense drive to keep this find a secret from Damon. I happen to take a look in the mirror and gasp in horror at the reflection staring back at me: a woman wearing my face but wearing a dress straight from the middle of the nineteenth century and around her neck is the necklace tucked into my pocket. I scream when the woman's face changes to that of a _monster!_ Then she lets out a voiceless scream of pain as she bursts into flames. That's more of a fright than I can handle: I collapse in a dead feint just as the doors to the room burst open in a shower of splinters. I never see the sheer _terror_ on Damon's face as he rushes to my side at an inhuman speed to make sure I'm alright. Nor do I see the wholehearted worry in his eyes as he tries in vain to figure out what had happened in the rooms that once belonged to the woman I saw in the mirror. The woman whose face I wear and who had mothered a bloodline that I will end. The woman whose soul was reborn and purified into mine. But I don't know _any_ of this. Not yet anyways.

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><p>Sarah: well, I have no idea where <em>that<em> plot twist came from. But I'm pretty sure it gave a _very_ obvious answer to the questions about the tomb. In case you _still_ don't get it, I'll explain the whole situation at the beginning of next chapter. I hope everyone continues to enjoy!


	6. Dreamweaver

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: well, after _that_ little shocker at the end of the last chapter, I'm sure you guys have a pretty good idea what happened to Katherine, at least, in 1864. In case you haven't put the clues together yet, you'll get your information this chapter. I hope everyone keeps enjoying what I write! Also! Please note that this chapter is going to alternate between Damon's and Elena's viewpoints.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_stordec23:_ thanks for the compliment! Here's a chapter that, in my opinion, tops the last one.

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><p>Chapter 5<br>Dreamweaver

**Damon**

I finally manage to burst through the doors to Katherine's old room in a shower of splinters. Seeing Elena collapsed and unconscious, a terror I have never experienced the like of floods through me. I rush to her side and pull her into my arms. Something otherworldly had been holding those doors shut and solid right up until just after Elena let out a terrified scream. I had been using the full limits of my strength in an effort to get in here. Elena had come in here as if she had been in some sort of trance, being guided by hands unseen. Right as I was about to come in and drag her right back out – who _knows_ what Katherine had left lying around the night she died – the doors slammed shut in my face.

I try my damnedest to wake Elena from her faint. Whatever had scared her so much she screamed still has a hold on her. I can _sense_ an ancient Power wrapped tightly around Elena's fragile body. I do everything I can think of to get her to wake up, but it's as if the Power wrapped around her is _keeping_ her unconscious. I do the only thing I can think of: I whip out my cell phone and call Sheila. She's the most powerful witch in the area. Not to mention that this Power gripping Elena in its grasp brings to mind both Emily _and_ Katherine. I just pray that Sheila is strong _enough_ to break through something those powerful ghosts are doing together. I hold Elena tightly to me as I wait for Sheila to pick up.

**Elena**

_I stare in shock at the two women standing before me. One looks remarkably similar to Bonnie … and the other looks _exactly_ like me. Both are dressed in clothes that come straight from the middle of the nineteenth century._

"_I've been waiting a hundred-and-forty-five years for this day, Elena," the woman who looks like me says._

"_What do you mean?" I ask. For some reason, I'm not afraid of either of them, even though I'm so sure that the woman who looks like me was the same woman I saw turn into a monster in the mirror before bursting into flames._

"_I had to wait until the time was right to reveal myself to you. It was bad enough having to wait for you to be _born,"_ she replies. "Then I had to wait until you were the same age I was when I completed my transition. And _then_ I had to wait for you to enter my rooms in the old Salvatore ruins. I should have known a goody-two-shoes like you would need a bad boy to bring you here. Damon filled the role quite nicely."_

_She looks to my right and I follow her gaze. I gasp when I see Damon clutching my body while he's talking on the phone furiously with someone. I recognize the room as the one that which I had fainted in. "Damon," I gasp. I try to reach out to touch him but my hand ghosts right through him. "Why can't I touch him?" I demand of the two women._

"_Emily has pulled your spirit out of your body briefly so that you and I can talk," the woman says, motioning to the girl who looks a lot like Bonnie. Then the woman sighs. "Where are my manners? I haven't even introduced the two of us," she says. "My name at the time I died was Katherine Pierce. But it was an alias taken to hide myself from a powerful enemy. It was the name I went by for much of my three-and-a-half centuries walking this world in some state of living. But I was _born_ Katarina Petrova." She motions to the woman next to her. "This is Emily Bennett." I gasp. "As you can guess, she was an ancestress of your friend Bonnie's. Emily had worked for me before we were each burned alive for what we were. She owed me a life debt and, for some reason, she feels that debt holds over even into death."_

"_What, you said you lived for more than three-and-a-half _centuries?"_ I demand. "And didn't Damon say that the lover he and Stefan shared before Stefan caused her to die was named Katherine?"_

"_Perceptive," Katherine compliments. "Since part of the spell Emily is using to keep you here will also hide these memories from you until you are ready to face them, I guess I can tell-all. Damon and Stefan are both more than a hundred-and—sixty years old. But they stopped aging when their father killed them for trying to save me from burning alive in 1864."_

_I sway from that news. "He was telling me _his_ past," I realize. "Damon was the older son of Giuseppe's."_

"_Correct," Katherine says, nodding. "Damon and Stefan are both vampires. I was their sire. The night they were killed, they had my blood in their systems. That is how a human becomes a vampire: having vampire blood in their system at the time of death. But, in order to keep existing, they have to feed on the blood of a human to complete the transition. Otherwise they will die once their own human blood is completely out of their system. And in order to keep from desiccating into a mummified state, they need to continue feeding on blood occasionally. Animal blood _will_ prevent desiccation. _But_ no vampire can survive on it for long. They will reach a point in time in which the call of human blood is too much and they will go mad from the bloodlust at the least scent or taste of it, shredding their victims alive in order to get every last drop. Be wary of Stefan Salvatore. He tries to survive on animal blood because he does not know how to control the vampire within him. Not to mention that his betrayal of me led to my final death. Elena, you are the purified form of my soul. Because of this, he will end up betraying you time and again, ultimately leading to your death as well if you do not take care to stay cautious around him."_

"_How will I remember that warning if I am going to forget this?" I ask._

"_You already instinctively try to avoid him. That is the part of my soul that resides in you remembering that he is the reason I died. Trust your instincts, Elena. You inherited them directly from me and as such, they are infinitely more accurate than any other human's. You have the survival instincts of a vampire of more than three centuries for all that you're only human."_

_Suddenly, the floor seems to shudder violently beneath my feet . "What was that? An earthquake?" I demand, struggling to keep my balance._

"_Nay, child," Emily speaks up for the first time. "Merely my descendant Sheila trying to wrest your spirit back into your body and out of my grasp."_

_I look towards where Damon is holding my body. Sheila Bennett is kneeling next to him, with her hands on either side of my face. "Elena," Katherine calls my name softly. "There is only so much time your spirit can be separated from your body without repercussions. There is one other matter we must discuss before we must let you return to your body."_

"_What is it?" I ask._

"_Take care of Damon. I have watched him over the decades. He thinks his soul is beyond redemption for what he's done in his vampire life. He does not feel worthy of having someone as pure as you love him. But he is too selfish to let that stop him from holding onto you tightly. Only you can redeem him from what he's done. You must never let his heart go. You must use your love for him to heal the wounds I had left on his heart and in his soul. Be a better woman than I was. I was greedy and wanted the set when it became apparent that I had both their hearts. I should have stayed true to the oldest son, who had won my heart first. You are _my_ chance at redemption from that mistake. Even when you do remember this, you must never tell Damon that he was the choice I would have made had I been given more time. Let him continue to hate me for eternity. I deserve it for coming between the brothers' bond of friendship."_

"_But…"I start._

"_Elena, he will forever be caught between the present and the past when he is with you if he knows of this conversation. That would not be fair to anyone involved. Let him hate me. Let him believe that the only good thing I did was enable him to meet you. Because, in all reality, that is the truth. You are far more worthy of Damon's heart than I ever would have been."_

"_Miss Katherine. Time is short," Emily says. "We must return her to her body if nothing adverse is to come of this."_

"_We will talk again, Elena. But you will only know that you are forgetting something important. When the time is right, it will all come back to you. I'll be watching you, Elena. Don't screw this up. It would utterly destroy Damon if you did."_

**Damon**

"Well?" I demand of Sheila. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"Emily and Katherine are holding Elena's spirit away from her body. For what, I do not know," Sheila replies. "I am trying to get her back, but they are putting up a fight. Whatever is going on between the three of them must have been important or Emily would not have taken the risks that accompany separating a spirit from its body."

"_What_ risks?" I demand.

"The longer her spirit is out of her body, the more it becomes attached to the spirit world. If this goes on _too_ long, Elena could end up a medium or, worse yet, a spirit-walker."

"What is a spirit-walker?" I ask.

"A spirit-walker is someone who can separate their spirit from their body at will, though it also happens at inopportune moments. It is a very dangerous being because they can use their spirit to take over someone else's body. Admittedly, there have been good ones, ones who use their own skills to protect others. But a spirit is only supposed to occupy the body it was born in. As a spirit-walker merges their spirit with another's body, they start losing grip on who _they_ are. The longer they stay merged with a body not their own, the harder it is for the spirit-walker to remember that they are _not_ that person and the more their spirit merges with the host's spirit. But becoming a spirit-walker is _not_ the worst fate Elena could face right now."

"What's worse than _that?"_ I demand.

"Death. Spirit-walkers face it as well. The longer a spirit is separated from the body it was born in, the more fragile the link between the spirit and the body. If the link were to break completely, they _will_ die."

"Get her back in her damn body, then!" I snap. The thought of any of those fates befalling Elena is terrifying. Suddenly, Elena gasps and snaps her eyes open. I turn her so I can look in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I…" she starts, but trails off as she frowns. "I feel like I'm forgetting something important." Then she notices Sheila. "Grams? What are you doing here?"

Sheila merely gets to her feet. "It seems I am no longer needed," she tells me. "She will be fine, Damon. There was time to spare," she adds when she sees my expression.

I sag with relief, clutching Elena to me. Sheila picks up the flashlight she had brought so she can make her way safely out of the ruins. "Damon, why was she here?" Elena asks. "How long was I out for, anyways?"

"What happened?" I ask, ignoring her questions. "What do you remember?"

Elena closes her eyes and concentrates. "I remember feeling like something or someone was pulling me into this room. It was a feeling I couldn't fight. I barely even heard your voice as you were telling me to stay out of here," she says. "Something drew me to the dresser. When I looked in the mirror, I was looking at me, but she wasn't me at the same time. She was wearing a dress straight out of the middle of the nineteenth century. Then, suddenly black veins sprouted up around her eyes, which turned blood red. Her canines turned into fangs. That's what made me scream. Then she burst into flames and I blacked out after that. But I feel like I'm forgetting something really important, like something had happened while I was unconscious. But, for the life of me, I don't have a _clue_ as to what it could be." She shakes her head and opens her eyes. "That was a crazy experience," she says, leaning forward to tuck her face in the crook where my left shoulder meets me neck.

I tighten my grip on her briefly, reassuring her that I'm here and not going anywhere. I scoop her up in my arms and get to my feet. "Think you can stand on your own?" I ask.

"I think so," she replies.

I carefully lower her to her feet. I hold her long enough for her to find her balance before slowly easing my hands away. When it becomes apparent she can handle an upright position, I scoop up the flashlight I had dropped in my rush to her side. "Grab the portrait," I tell her.

She obediently goes to pick up the portrait of my mother from where she had leaned it against the dresser. She takes care to avoid looking in the mirror as she picks up the portrait and returns to my side. I can't really blame her for it, considering what Katherine showed her in that mirror. "Can we leave now? I think I've had enough excitement for one day," she says softly.

"Let's get out of here," I agree, wrapping my left arm around Elena's shoulders and pulling her into my side.

We don't talk again until we're back out in the sunlight and away from the haunted ruins of the manor I was born and raised in. Even then, we refrain from mentioning anything that had gone on in there after we left my old room. But I have a funny feeling that Katherine's by no means through with Elena. And there's not a damn thing _I_ can do to stop the _ghost_ of a vampire. That leaves me highly unsettled. I'm going to have to have a long talk with Sheila about this later. But, right now, I'd rather keep Elena where I can keep an eye on her. I have a strong feeling that after what she saw in that mirror, I'm not going to be able to keep my secrets from her much longer. I just hope she takes the truth of everything better than she did the image of Katherine in that old mirror…

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><p>Sarah: well, then, what do you think? Yes, I <em>know<em> both this chapter and last chapter are rather short than my usual chapters, but there's not much I can do about it. I'm not going to go mixing the contents of multiple chapters just to get one chapter to a decent length. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Drop me a review and tell me what you think!


	7. Boarding House Hi-Jinx

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: welcome to Chapter 6, what the site will refer to as Chapter 7. I am _so_ glad everyone is so thoroughly enjoying what I'm trying to accomplish here. Anyways, review replies then on with the chapter! Also, a _lot_ of lovely smut in this chapter!

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_VDfan2107:_ as I said at the end of Chapter 4, I have _no_ idea where the "Katherine's soul is purified into Elena" plot twist came from. But it has me eager to discover what _other_ goodies my muse has in store for us. As for your review of last chapter, I hate how bitchy Katherine is in the show. I think that after having faced losing almost every member of her family to Klaus's fury over her transition into a vampire, Katherine would have had this 'thing' about protecting what family she had left. More so considering that family descended from her daughter, whom she had to watch grow up from afar. So yeah, I usually portray Katherine as having this 'thing' about taking care of her family. Also, I agree that Damon is _definitely_ the right choice all around. He's the sexier/funnier/hotter/smarter brother, after all. Not to mention that he _knows_ how to keep his inner vampire under control even when surrounded by blood. And don't forget those _eyes!_ **(drools)** **(clears throat)** Okay, fangirl moment over. Also, thanks for the suggestion you sent me via PM. I'm _definitely_ going to use it, just adding a _small_ twist which I'm sure you'll love.

_stordec23:_ I wasn't expecting the last chapter either. I give credit to my muse for that awesomeness. Glad you enjoyed.

_teamjacobandpaul:_ thank you!

_rcardinals4:_you're making me blush with all the praise! Thanks! And yeah, I couldn't have Katherine pop into the picture and put a strain on Damon and Elena's relationship. Had to make her dead for real.

_monica218:_ wow! So glad you enjoy this story so much that you got hooked!

_Sere's Light:_ yes, Katherine is dead. Elena is actually Katherine's purified reincarnation. That's why she and Katherine could very easily be mistaken for twins.

_Bringalldluvson:_ Damon _could_ compel her to remember, yes, but only if he had her remove the jewelry he had given her. Remember, all three pieces are loaded with dried vervaine. I'll consider having Elena go against Katherine's wishes that she keep the fact that Katherine would have chosen Damon given time a secret from him. But I'm not so sure about going through with it. As Katherine said, Damon will be caught between his present relationship with Elena and his past relationship with his sire whenever he's with Elena for a very long time, possibly even forever. It would be unfair to both Elena _and_ Damon for him to be caught between the two when he's with Elena. Elena may be Katherine's purified reincarnation, but she is still very much her own person.

_jairem:_ Katherine _is_ a decent character in this fanfic. I'm quite certain that we'll be seeing _much_ more of her before the story's done. And I'm not _just_ a Delena-shipper. They are one of my OTPs from the show. My other OTP from TVD is Klaus/Caroline. I agree that it _is_ gratifying to know there's _something_ of halfway decent quality out there that has Stefan being "The Screw-Up" and Damon being "The One". Even if I _did_ have to write it myself.

_housebabe1:_ Damon is one of my favorite characters of all time. There's so much _depth_ and _personality_ to his character. Just when you think you can safely put him in _one_ category, he goes and throws you for a loop by doing something that in _no way_ belongs in that category. Damon is in a category all his own when it comes to personalities. That's what I think. I have never come across another character in _any_ fandom I've checked out that can even come _close_ to the number of dimensions and facets of personality and behavior that go into making him who he is. Every other character I've come across, major and minor alike, can safely be tucked into one 'role', _maybe_ two if they're super lucky. Stefan is the 'good guy with a few major flaws left by a bad past'. Katherine's what I call the Prima Donna. Elena is the all-around good-slash-self-sacrificial person. Klaus is the Leader of the Pack who wants things done _his_ way or he'll kill you. Jenna was the parental figure who didn't have a clue as to what was really going until just before she died. But Damon? Damon ranges across the entire board and you never know _what_ to expect from him next because his character development _never_ ends. The only thing you can be completely certain of is that he'd risk his life time and again for those few who are lucky enough to have earned his friendship. There is so damn much I can _do_ with him and _none_ of it will seem _too_ out-of-character.

_Candy Momo:_ yeah, there were a few short chapters. I just didn't want to combine the plots in the chapters to make one long one. So glad you enjoyed it.

Guest 1 of Chapter 5: **(sigh)** I really wish you had put something in the name box. I'm not asking you to register to the site to review. All I'm asking is for a name to call you by. It feels so mean to be referring to someone as 'Guest # of Chapter #'. Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed. Here's the continuation. Sorry it took so long.

**Everyone else:** c'mon, people. I know you're out there. I _do_ accept anonymous reviews. Just, if you leave an anonymous review, I'd truly appreciate it if you left a name for me to call you rather than "Guest". Thirty-two people on the site logged in to add this story to favorites. _Sixty-five_ added it to alerts. The majority of those people have _not_ left a review. And I _know_ that even those numbers do not account for _all_ the people who have read this story. C'mon folks. Reviews are like ambrosia for my muse. It's so _easy_ to leave even a heart to tell me that you love it. Some of my reviewers have given me a great deal of inspiration for the next turn in the plot by simply asking questions or giving suggestions. So, when you're done reading this chapter, go to the little box at the bottom of the page. Login or leave a name and tell me what you think. Ask questions, leave a suggestion. Who knows? _You_ might get credit for inspiring a scene in this story.

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><p>Chapter 6<br>Boarding House Hi-Jinx

**Elena**

Damon keeps a firm grip on me as we quickly make our way out of the ruins of the old Salvatore manor. As we step out into the bright afternoon sunshine, we both let out a sigh of relief that there had been no _other_ supernatural occurrences. We remain quiet as we make our way to Damon's car. Once we reach it, Damon pops the trunk. Then he takes the portrait from me and carefully places it in the trunk.

He slams the trunks and turns to me. "Want to come see my place?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"You mean the boarding house?" I ask. He nods. "I thought Zack didn't like you. Wouldn't he be there right now?"

Damon chuckles. "Whether Zack likes me or not doesn't matter. He knows as well as I do that _I'm_ the very reason he gets to live in the boarding house. As I said, the boarding house belongs to _me,_ I just _let_ him live there. And he knows the conditions that were made to grant him even _that_ much," he says. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me over to the passenger seat. Bypassing the door for the umpteenth time today, Damon lifts me over it and gently sets me into the passenger seat. "You and I need to get cleaned up, anyways. I can't take you to your place all covered in dust and dirt, now can I?"

I look down at myself in surprise and realize that he's right: I _am_ covered in dust and dirt. I examine him and realize that he's just as filthy from our explorations of the ruins. "Jenna _would_ freak if she realized that I was exploring ruins rather than attending school," I admit. "Let's go get cleaned up. After that, you could give me a tour of the boarding house. I've never been inside."

He chuckles as he circles the front of the car. Like before, he opts to vault _over_ the door into the driver's seat rather than open it and climb in like a normal person. I find that I much prefer his flashy displays over anything a normal guy would do. We both buckle up, then he starts the car and turns around in the clearing so we can drive back down the long dirt road. Once we're on the road again, Damon reaches his right hand over and captures my left hand with it, lacing our fingers together. I give him a warm smile over the simple intimacy of the move.

The silence on the drive to the boarding house is a comfortable one. I'm so _grateful_ that Damon isn't one of those people who _have_ to fill every bit of silence with mindless chatter, pointless questions, or deep conversations. Sometimes, silent companionship says a whole lot more than all the words in the world combined. And being with Damon is so _easy._ As easy as breathing, in my opinion. And it feels _just_ as vital to my existence. That feeling should be downright _terrifying._ I barely know him, after all. But, somehow, I _also_ feel like I know him better than anyone else in the world does.

Finally, we pull into the long drive leading up to the boarding house. Damon parks his car and we get out. He then puts the roof up. I look up to check for signs of rain, but there isn't even a wisp of a cloud visible. I raise an eyebrow at him. He just raises one in return and I sigh as I realize he's not going to explain himself on this either. Damon goes to the back of the Camaro to open the trunk and pull out the portrait we had salvaged at the ruins. "Shut the trunk for me, would you?" he asks.

I obediently join him at the back of the car and shut the trunk. Then I follow him into the boarding house. I stare in awe at the antique furniture decorating the place. "You _live_ here?" I ask in shock.

Damon shrugs. "Stefan and I haven't been in Mystic Falls in many years. But we each have a room kept here for us," he says cryptically. "Stefan keeps everything important to him in his room here. It's pretty damn cramped in there."

"What about you?" I ask, following him as he starts climbing the stairs to the second floor.

"I'm not really a materialistic person. There are a few things I've kept over the years and they have their place in my room here," he replies. "Stefan's the one who can't let things go, not me. And I'm not just talking about material things, either."

From his tone, he's not going to be explaining his choice of words anytime soon, so I don't bother asking. I follow him in silence the rest of the way up the stairs. We turn right at the top of the stairs and go all the way down the hall to the last door on this wing. I frown as I realize that this is reminiscent of the layout of the ruins. "This reminds me of the ruins," I tell him.

"When the boarding house was built in 1914, the layout was loosely based after the old Salvatore manor," he replies, opening the door to his room and walking in. I walk just a few steps in and gasp upon seeing that Damon's room might as well be a perfect replica of the room belonging to Giuseppe's oldest son in terms of layout. "C'mon, Elena, you can make comparisons later," he says, chuckling. He carefully lays the portrait on his bed "We need to get cleaned up."

"Why is your room a match to the oldest son's in those ruins?" I ask, following him as he enters an en-suite bathroom that's grandeur just blows me away.

"I've preferred that arrangement since I was a child," he says evasively. He turns to me. "Shower or bubble bath?" he asks, changing topics with a wicked grin.

I feel arousal curl in the pit of my stomach at the thought of sharing _either_ of those with Damon. Damon's nostrils flare slightly, as if he can _smell_ my arousal. His eyes darken with desire. I quickly make my decision. "Bubble bath," I tell him.

He smirks and shrugs out of his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt. I kneel down so I can unfasten my shoes and pull them off. Once my shoes are off, I pull my tank top over my head before reaching behind me to unzip my skirt. It's my turn to smirk at the appreciation and hunger in Damon's eyes as he takes in my matching black lace-and-silk undergarments. He's already undressed and I can fully appreciate his gorgeous body. I reach behind me and pretend to fumble with my bra clasps. "A little help here?" I ask, barely recognizing my own voice for the silken desire in it.

"With pleasure," he purrs, crossing the gap between us to 'help' me with the removal my bra. Then he tucks his thumbs into my panties, gives me a cocky grin, and proceeds to quickly slide them down my legs. I step out of them. My eyes barely catch his movement as he stands up and pulls me into his arms to capture my lips in a searing kiss that leaves my whole body tingling with desire for _more._ At the same time, he presses his hips to mine, and my eyes roll back in my head. After last night, I know _damn_ well that he and I fit together perfectly, but I'm still getting used to his sheer _size_ down there. I never thought a man could get _that_ large.

After a good, long kiss that leaves me gasping for air, Damon, pulls away to start the bathwater. After he adds a deliciously scented bubble bath, he winks at me before revealing a hidden compartment in the wall of his bathroom containing a shelf full of cocktail glasses above a mini-fridge. He opens the mini-fridge to show a fine selection of champagne.

I realizing he's trying to pull off Old-World-style romanticizing as he carefully chooses a bottle of champagne. He grabs a couple of cocktail glasses from the shelf before closing the panel hiding the secret compartment with his hip. He grins devilishly at me as he sets the bottle of champagne and the cocktail glasses on the ledge built into the stone wall next to the claw-foot tub. He's just in time to turn off the bathwater before it runs over the edge.

Then he scoops me up into his arms and steps into the tub himself. He sits down and positions me in his lap. Then he pours each of us a glass of champagne from the bottle he had selected. "You're quite the romantic, aren't you?" I ask, accepting the glass he hands me and taking a sip.

"I try to be," he chuckles. "You, my dear, seem stressed. You're shoulders are extremely tense."

"I feel like I'm in some sort of dream," I confess. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and find that meeting you, being with you, was all some grand adventure my subconscious made up."

"Well, I'm real and I'm yours forever," he assures me, wrapping his free arm around my waist. "Besides, I doubt even _your_ imagination is good enough to come up with _me."_

I smile as I realize he's right about that. "You're right," I admit, taking another sip of my champagne. "This is a damn good bottle of champagne."

"I prefer my alcohol to be of the highest quality," he replies.

I smile and sip at my glass of champagne while I relax against him. "You know, I feel like I'm in one epic fairy tale right now," I say after several minutes.

"I'm no Prince Charming," he says softly.

"I was never a fan of him anyways," I reply with a shrug. "I always preferred the Prince of Darkness. It just sucks that he never got the girl in the fairy tales. Every time Mom told me bedtime stories when I was little, I _always_ requested that she tell me stories where the Prince of Darkness won the girl away from Prince Charming." I smile slightly. "My favorite story Mom told me at bedtime was where the Prince of Darkness and Prince Charming were brothers who had once been the closest of friends. But a girl got between them and turned them against each other before something took her from them at the same time as immortalizing them. Many decades later, they both fell for another girl who was very different from the first girl for all that she looked a lot like the first girl. The two princes had been feuding all those years and finding out that the other had fallen for this girl as well had only heightened their feud. But _this_ girl would not tolerate their fighting over her. She had met the Prince of Darkness first and had seen something in him that even he didn't believe still resided in him."

"What did she see in the Prince of Darkness?" Damon asks.

"A small sliver of good," I reply. "She became determined to redeem him from the darkness and bring the good man she saw hints of out to the light. But Prince Charming, the young brother, was so certain there was _nothing_ redeemable left in his brother. He did everything in his power to try to tear the girl away from his brother. Both princes were keeping their immortal status a secret from the girl, as well as other dark secrets. But the Prince of Darkness had promised that he would reveal all to the girl in time while Prince Charming would never do such a thing. The girl did her best to steer clear of Prince Charming. For all his knight-in-shining-armor tendencies, she could sense something sinister in him, something that scared her like nothing else. She did her best to only associate with the Prince of Darkness, the prince who truly still had good left in him. But one day, the Prince of Darkness didn't show up when he told her he'd meet her somewhere. He had _always_ been early to every meeting he made with her. When it was an hour past the time he told her to meet him and he still hadn't shown up, the girl knew something was wrong. She knew Prince Charming had done something horrible in an effort to take the Prince of Darkness from her. As much as confronting Prince Charming alone terrified her, the girl knew that she was the only one who could stop his plans. So she had a friend lure Prince Charming away from the castle the brothers were living in so that she could slip inside in hopes of finding the Prince of Darkness in time to save him. The ruse succeeded in luring Prince Charming away. Then the girl snuck inside and searched the whole castle for her Prince of Darkness. She found him locked in a cell in the basement. Prince Charming had been depriving the Prince of Darkness of the thing that allowed the princes to continue their immortal lives in an effort to take him out of the picture. The girl did what she had to do to save the Prince of Darkness. Then they worked together to take down Prince Charming in such a way that he could never again try such wickedness. After that, the Prince of Darkness gave the girl the gift of immortality as well as made her his Dark Queen. And they had wild and wicked adventures for the rest of eternity."

"Fascinating bedtime story," Damon remarks, his voice laced with amusement.

"I always preferred the stories Mom told me where the girl did the rescuing," I reply, twisting to grin at him. "I hate the stories where the girl is some pathetic wimp who waits for her prince to save her rather than fighting to save herself and her loved ones. I was never a fan of the whole Damsel-in-Distress routine. _Boring."_

"I couldn't agree more," Damon chuckles. Then he takes my empty champagne glass from me and sets it next to his own on the ridge built into the wall next to the tub we're in. "Now, while I truly enjoyed hearing that tale, there's something I'd _much_ rather be doing than hearing you recite the bedtime stories your mother told you."

"Oh?" I ask archly, having felt his firm erection throughout the recounting of the story.

He responds by turning me around so that I'm straddling his hips before capturing my lips in a searing kiss. He reaches his hand down between us to run his thumb over my clit. I gasp into the kiss and he takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into my mouth. I moan in pleasure as he slips a finger into my core to start alternating between pumping and curling it. It's not long before he adds a second finger, then a third. Then he pulls his hand away and I feel the tip of his dick at my entrance. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt in my core. I let out a whimper at the surge of pain, but he rubs soothing circles on my back while holding completely still so that I can get used to his girth. Finally the pain starts to subside and a single roll of his hips replaces the last of it with pleasure.

After that, time blurs and I only recall bits and pieces of various surfaces in the boarding house against my bare back as he takes me against what seems like every conceivable surface in the boarding house. When time finally slows down again, I'm on my back on one of the couches in the living room while Damon's thrusting into me from above. His face is buried in the crook where my left shoulder meets my neck, his lips and teeth leaving a very noticeable hickey at that juncture.

Suddenly, a feral snarl like that of a rabid animal breaks through the haze of passion and pleasure that was fogging my mind. I gasp as Damon is ripped forcefully away from me and _literally_ thrown across the room. Standing between us is Stefan. Only, something's wrong with his face. As I realize precisely what is wrong with his face, I gasp and press myself against the couch as terror floods me. The whites of his eyes are dyed blood red, the veins around them have turned black and popped up prominently, and his canines have turned into fangs. He's snarling ferociously at Damon.

"Oh, now you've done it, Stefan," Damon sighs, picking himself up off the floor. His left forearm is hanging at an angle that shows the bones are broken. I watch in horror as he simply realigns the bones. I can actually _hear_ his bones healing in a matter of seconds. "You went and let the cat out of the bag. Couldn't keep control of yourself, could you?"

As he speaks, I watch as his face changes from man to the same kind of monster as Stefan. "What the _fuck_ is going on here?" I demand, shaking like a leaf. I can't even find it in myself to care that I'm stark naked. The fact that my boyfriend and his brother are _monsters_ is just a _little_ more important than _that._

"Sorry, Elena," Damon apologizes. "I didn't want you to find out like _this._ But now that the cat's out of the bag, you should know that Stefan and I are vampires."

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><p>Sarah: and credit for the way Elena found out the secret goes to <em>VDfan2107!<em> Thanks ever so much for giving me the idea! Everyone, please leave me a review telling me what you think!


	8. My Life Has Gone to Hell

Never Let Me Go  
>DG32173<p>

Sarah: well, that was a rather interesting cliffhanger last chapter. I _know_ everyone's wondering what her reaction to _that_ news is. Well, you'll find out this chapter. I hope you enjoy.

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_Elliesmeow:_ nope, Elena was just telling Damon her favorite bedtime story. She had in no way realized what his 'dark secret' was. Here's the next chapter.

_Candy Momo:_ I didn't want to mix this chapter with last chapter, so I decided to leave off on a cliffhanger in hopes that there would be more reviews begging for a new chapter. And here it is. I hope you enjoy!

_shoppe69:_ here's the new chapter!

_jairem:_ well, _I_ can believe Stefan would do something like that. He thought Damon was feeding on her. And it was nowhere near as awkward as it was terrifying for Elena. Here's the new chapter. Be warned, Stefan's gonna be an even bigger freak in this one.

_stordec23:_ I'm so glad you love this story. Here's the new chapter.

_PattyFleur87:_ I agree, Stefan needs his own girl. And he had thought Damon was feeding on Elena. He didn't realize Damon was just leaving her with a hickey. Here's more.

_rcardinals4:_ yeah, I'm also glad the secret is out. Here's her reaction!

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><p>Chapter 7<br>My Life Has Gone to Hell

"… _you should know that Stefan and I are vampires."_

It's not everyday you find out that your boyfriend's 'dark secret' is straight out of a horror story. I stare at the two creatures standing there. Stefan's snarling hasn't let up in the least. If anything, it's intensified. I try to scoot away from him, but there's only so much space on this suddenly tiny couch.

"Seriously, Stefan," Damon sighs, shaking his head and morphing his face back into that of a man. "If I had fed on her, you'd _smell_ fresh blood. Take a sniff. The only fresh blood in here is mine, as I'm sure you'd know if you hadn't leapt to assumptions. I was giving her a _hickey,_ dumbass, _not _feeding on her."

But apparently Stefan's too caught up in rage to be reasoned with. He crouches down, as if preparing to attack. "No!" I cry out, instinctively lunging forward to try to defend Damon.

"Elena, don't!" Damon cries in horror. Suddenly, in a blur of motion, he zooms back across the room to intercept me before I even get off the couch. He scoops me up in his arms and the room blurs until I find Damon cradling me in his arms back where he had been standing seconds before. "Stefan, you need to leave," he hisses, glaring at his brother as he clutches me tightly against his bare chest.

But Stefan lunges at us, moving faster than my eyes can follow. I cry out in pain when he grabs my arm roughly to pull me away from Damon. The loud _crack_ of breaking bones echoes in the room and a sharp pain radiates up the arm Stefan had grabbed. I find myself flying through the air to hit the couch I had just been on. All the air is knocked from my lungs on impact and I'm left seeing stars. But a roar of fury has me fighting to clear my vision. I cradle my arm tenderly as I try in vain to watch the two vampires fighting. But I look down in shock when I feel moisture under my hand. I gasp in horror at seeing the jagged edge of a bone had ripped up through muscle and flesh to poke out into the open air, blood gushing down my arm from the injury.

The tension in the air intensifies and I realize with a jolt that I don't hear the sounds of a fight anymore. I slowly raise my head to see Damon standing protectively in front of me while Stefan seems to be fighting some internal struggle a few feet away. "Stefan, _leave,"_ Damon snarls. "You know how bad things get when you try to hang around a bleeding human. So _leave_ before you force me to do something drastic. I'm going to kick your ass later for hurting her like that. But you need to _leave_ now!"

I whimper when trying to scoot back jostles my injured arm painfully. I don't know if it's my whimper that causes Stefan to lose all control or the further widening of my injury letting more blood gush out into the open that does it or if it is something else entirely. Whatever it was, Stefan's eyes meet mine and I feel my breath catch in my throat at the rabid predator lurking behind them. In the next instant, he lunges for me, completely ignoring his brother. But Damon intercepts him mid-lunge, jamming a syringe with a yellow fluid into Stefan's bicep and pushing the plunger down to send whatever is in the syringe pouring into Stefan's bloodstream.

Stefan immediately collapses. "And _I'm_ the unsafe brother?" Damon snarls at him as he quickly loses consciousness. Damon sighs and immediately turns towards me. I watch him, my eyes wide with fright. He holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Elena, let me take care of your arm," he tells me. "You know damn well I can't take you to the hospital because there is no story we could come up with that would adequately explain your injuries. If you will just trust me in this, I can heal your arm a helluva lot faster than it would otherwise. At the rate you're pouring blood, you could very easily lose consciousness or even die. Once I take care of your arm, I'll explain everything, I promise." I continue to watch him. He quickly realizes that I'm rapidly falling into shock. He curses and quickly comes to kneel on the floor next to my position on the couch. "Elena, you need to fight back against the shock," he tells me. "I know this is a lot to take in, not to mention the nasty injury my idiotic brother left you with, but you can't give way to shock." I watch him, my thoughts an incoherent, jumbled mess. He curses again. "Okay, Elena. I'm sure you hear me, at the very least. I'm going to realign your broken bones. That means I'm going to have to get the bone sticking out of your arm to go back inside and line it back up with the other piece of it. And it will hurt you as I move it. But know that I'm doing this so that when I do what I have to do to heal your injury, you won't lose use of your arm." He carefully lifts my arm up. I cry out in pain as he jostles the bone. "Shh, shh," he tries to sooth me. "Now, this next step will hurt worse because I have to maneuver your bone back into your arm and line it up with the other piece that's still inside. I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me, Elena?" I manage a small nod. He sighs in relief. "Okay then. Now, try not to cry out again. I need to concentrate on what I'm doing and I can't focus when you give voice to your pain. Think you can keep as quiet as possible while I do this?" I manage another small nod. "Good girl." With that he takes my arm in both of his hands and I watch in morbid fascination as he gently eases the protruding bone back into my arm. I bite my lip to keep from crying out again. It takes several long minutes for Damon to perfectly realign my broken bone. "Now, the next step is one you probably won't care for. You'll have to drink some of my blood. It will heal your injury as if it had never been there to begin with." He changes his face back to that of the vampire, raises his wrist to his lips, and bites down. He then presses his bleeding wrist against my mouth. That brings me back out of shock. I try to squirm away from it, but Damon instantly has my back pressed against his chest and his other arm wrapped around my waist to keep me there. He then blocks off my nose, which forces my mouth to open reflexively to try to breathe. Rather than air, his rich, sweet blood pours into my mouth. It only takes one mouthful for me to close my eyes and drink deeply of his blood. "That's my girl," he croons, tucking my head under his chin. I raise my good hand up to latch onto his forearm. As I drink, I'm startled to _feel_ my broken bone knit itself back together. I raise my injured arm to watch the jagged gash in it heal before my eyes as I drink Damon's blood, healing without even a scar. Seconds later, Damon tries to pry his wrist from my mouth. But I latch onto his hand with the hand on my newly-healed arm while tightening my grip with my other hand. "Elena, while I'm honored that you want to continue feeding on my blood, you _really_ need to get cleaned up and I need to take care of my brother and clean up down here," Damon says wryly, using his free hand to gently pry me off of him. He moves faster than my senses can follow. One second, I'm in his lap braced with my back against his chest. The next, I'm alone on the couch and Damon is standing before me. I'm shocked to see that his hands are caked in rapidly drying blood. "Go upstairs to my room and get another bubble bath, Elena," he tells me seriously. "I'm going to clean up down here, take care of my brother, and then I'll come up and check on you. If we're lucky, we might be able to find a way to salvage the afternoon." I lower my eyes only to find my jaw dropping at realizing I'm completely covered in blood. "You were gushing like Old Faithful for a bit there," he remarks dryly. "Now, go upstairs to my room and get cleaned up again."

I sigh, get off the couch, and make my way back upstairs to his bathroom. As I run another bubble bath, I notice that the bottle of champagne and the cocktail glasses from earlier are still on the ridge built into the wall next to the tub. I decide I'm going to need more alcohol to come to terms with how upside-down and inside-out my life has gotten in so short a time. The remainder of that bottle of champagne will just be the starting point. Unfortunately, I have _no_ idea how Damon opened the compartment that hides the mini-fridge with the other bottles of champagne. But I'm sure that's not the only alcohol in this house.

Finally my bath is ready. I turn off the water and climb in, wincing slightly at the heat. First I start scrubbing the blood off my body. I frown when that starts turning the bathwater bright red. I decide to get out and scrub the blood off in a shower. I scramble out of the tub, let out the bathwater. I get into the shower and start the water. I quickly adjust it to be hot, but not _boiling_ hot. Then I use Damon's soap and shampoo and wash myself repeatedly until the water running off my body is finally clear again. It's unnerving just how long that takes. I sigh and wash off one more time, just to be safe. Then I climb out. I completely bypass looking for a towel to wrap around myself. Damon's seen every inch of me because I remember him insisting on placing kisses over every inch of my skin. And I have a feeling whatever he's doing to deal with his brother will keep his brother from seeing any more of my body than he already has even if I decide to streak through the boarding house.

I grab the bottle of champagne and briefly chastise myself for the poor treatment I'm about to give the fine alcohol. Then I put the neck to my lips and shoot it back, taking long pulls from it in a desperate attempt to get drunk _fast._ Once the bottle is empty, I head back into Damon's bedroom. I'm willing to lay every penny to my name on a bet that he has another personal stash of alcohol, this time the strong stuff, in here. I'm delighted to find that I would have won that bet when I discover that he had turned the wardrobe into an alcohol cabinet filled with a fine selection of bourbon. I hope he can forgive me for this but I'm going to lay waste to as much of his stock as possible. I want to get so drunk I can't even think coherently. And I have an unnaturally high alcohol tolerance. I grab the first bottle my hand lands on. I don't bother reading the label. I just take off the top, put the neck to my lips, and start throwing back the alcohol like it was soda.

**With Damon when Elena was climbing the stairs**

First thing I do is throw Stefan into one of the vampire holding cells in the basement. I can't beat the shit out of him properly while he's passed out from the highly concentrated dose of vervaine water I had injected into his system. After I lock him in the cell, I go back upstairs and get to work washing Elena's blood from everywhere it had flown when her bone ripped through her skin when she had hit the couch. It's a damn good thing that the furniture down here is upholstered in leather rather than fabric. It's a helluva lot easier to clean blood off of leather than get it out of fabric.

It takes nearly an hour to finally scrub up every last drop of blood. I then dump the bucket of bloody bleach water down the sink in the kitchen. I put the bucket back just inside the larder door where it belongs. I haven't heard a sound from Elena for fifteen minutes and I'm starting to get worried. So I vamp upstairs to my room. As soon as I open the door to my room, I really wish I hadn't.

"Leave the girl to her own devices for an hour and she drinks half the bourbon stock," I mutter, staring at the surprisingly large number of empty bourbon bottles lying scattered across my floor.

I raise my eyes to my bed to see Elena passed out in an alcohol induced coma on top of the covers. I check the wardrobe I had turned into a liquor cabinet to see that I was right: more than half the stock is missing from the shelves. I'm quick to make sure that my 1792 is still there. I sigh in relief at finding that it had not been touched. It was hell getting my hands on that bottle and to have such an exquisite brew be guzzled the way she had to have done with bottles on the floor would have been a crying shame. I return it to its spot at the back of the very top shelf. The shelves around the height of my waist and lower are completely cleaned out. She probably grabbed the first bottle her hand touched, sunk down to the floor next to the wardrobe, and started drinking. How she got to the bed to pass out will forever remain a mystery.

I sigh and carefully pick my way through the mess on my floor to pick her up in my arms and tuck her in under the covers. I then pick my way to the closet to pull on a pair of jeans. Finally, I get to work on cleaning up the mess she left for me. I check the bathroom and sigh at seeing she had started her drinking with the champagne I had carefully picked out for us to share earlier. Still, drowning her troubles in alcohol is a better solution than some methods I was worried she might try. I grab the empty champagne bottle and throw it in the large black trash bag with the other bottles of alcohol she had drained in her quest to get away from the way her life has suddenly been turned on its ear.

My blood in her system will lay waste to all the alcohol she had consumed much sooner than she would have expected. I doubt she'll even have a hangover when she wakes up. It takes a _helluva_ lot of hard liquor for a vampire to get drunk and we don't stay drunk for very long because the alcohol is processed rapidly by our bodies. That trait bleeds over to humans who get vampire blood in their system. Right now, I'm grateful I had a reason to get my blood into Elena earlier. She could very easily have drunk herself into a _true_ coma or even killed herself with all the alcohol she had consumed if my blood weren't in her system to quickly process it for her.

I go over my room again and find a stray bourbon bottle had rolled under my bed. I fetch it out and stuff it in the black trash bag as well. One more complete check of my room shows that I had gotten everything. I tie the black trash bag shut and vamp it down to the dumpster. That's when Zack decides to pull into the drive, home from work. I sigh. Things just got even more complicated.

"Damon," he greets icily as he climbs out of his car.

"It's not me you should be so cold to _today,"_ I growl at him.

"Please, tell me why you don't deserve such treatment today of all days," he invites.

"Very well. Just remember, _you_ asked for the information," I snap. "I had brought my beautiful girlfriend here to show her the boarding house. We were going at it in the living room when Stefan got home from school. I was giving her a hickey and he thought I was feeding on her. So he ripped me off her and threw me into a wall across the room, completely vamped out. Thus, my unsuspecting girlfriend was clued in on the fact that Stefan and I aren't human. I decide since the cat was out of the bag already, I'd tell her exactly what we are. Stefan's still snarling at me. When he crouched down to prepare to launch himself at me, Elena went to throw herself at him to stop him. I vamped over, scooped her up, and vamped back to where Stefan had thrown me. I warned him to leave. Instead of doing so, he vamped over, grabbed her by the arm, and jerked her from my arms, breaking _her_ arm in the process. He threw her into the couch. I lunged at him in fury over his treatment of her. Then we both got hit by the smell of her blood at the same time. Apparently, when she hit the couch, one half of the bone he had broken in her arm speared through muscle and flesh into open air. I immediately vamped in front of her to protect her from him should he try anything. I warned him again to leave, reminding him of what happens to the bleeding humans he has stupidly chosen to hang around. Then the smell of her blood intensified and Stefan lunged for her. I intercepted him with a syringe full of highly concentrated vervaine water. I injected the whole syringe into his bicep. He passed out. I took the time to take care of her injury before sending her upstairs to clean up. Stefan's now locked up in one of the vampire holding cells in the basement and Elena is passed out in my bed because in the hour it took me to clean up the foyer, she had consumed half of my personal stash of bourbon as well as the rest of the bottle of champagne we were sharing. Thankfully, my blood is in her system and will get rid of all that alcohol before it can seriously hurt her. I'm willing to lay money on the bet that she won't even wake up with a hangover. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go keep an eye on my girlfriend. I promised her I'd explain everything once I cleaned up downstairs. Since she was out cold by the time I caught up with her, I'm going to tell her everything when she wakes up." With that, I roughly brush past Zack's shoulder to head inside, leaving him slack-jawed from surprise. I pause at the front door. "And whatever you do, _don't_ let Stefan out or you will end up _just_ as dead as your father," I warn him darkly without looking at him. "I plan on dealing with him personally for what he did to Elena. I will not tolerate _anyone_ hurting her in any way or for any reason. If he were not my brother, he'd already be dead for his actions against her. As it is, he will wish he had never stuck around after saving her life back in May."

I vamp back up to my room and begin building up a roaring fire. I don't know how long Elena will be asleep, so I might as well get comfortable. Once I have the fire built up, I go to her purse and dig out her phone. I send a text to Jenna as Elena, letting her aunt know she will be hanging out with me at the boarding house. I then turn her phone off so that no one will be able to get through to her. Let them come up with their own reasons for why it's off.

I put her phone back in her purse and return it to the counter in my bathroom, where she had left it. After that, I turn one of the chairs next to the fireplace so that I can sit in it and watch Elena sleep. I have no idea how she will react once she recovers from her shock. I won't push her boundaries by climbing in the bed next to her. I'll just be patient until I can talk to her and fulfill my promise to explain everything. I've never forced myself to exercise patience for anything or anyone. But she's worth the universe to me. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her at my side. But I won't compel her again. I want our relationship to be _real._ I just wish she didn't have to find out my secret in such a terrifying and traumatizing way. It was _not_ the way I had planned on letting her know what I am. But it can't be changed. Like I told Elena earlier today, the past can't be undone, only learned from.


End file.
